Instigation
by Just a Blip on the Radar
Summary: If Badger could provide a summation for how he viewed his life, it would be as follows: He hated it, but loved the way he lived it. Dirty work was the essence of who he was. Until Mal's pretty little fugitive decides to provide him a lesson in heroics. **On hiatus for now**
1. Derision and Imperfection

_**A/N** This story here is set post-Out of Gas. :D Don't be afraid to R&R. I appreciate critiques, praises, and recommendations. ESPECIALLY for Chinese-fails and incorrect engineering/mechanical stuff in regards to the ship. I'm novice in both categories, and I'm not pretending to be an expert on either of them. Let me know if I'm inaccurate with anything._

_**Disclaimer: **No characters or settings mentioned here belong to me. Instead, they hail from the brilliant mind of Joss Whedon. I'm just weaving my way through his 'verse, enjoying my time manipulating his wonderful cast of characters._

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><p>Badger leaned back in his desk chair, giving a crooked smile at the scene before him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing Malcolm Reynolds backed in a corner, unable to argue his way out of bartering for what he took the liberty to assume was decent pay. There was no avoiding it; Badger just always had the upper hand. It was one of those fine privileges a businessman had when he got to be the one offering the hire, and looking dapper in his own tailored suit and bowler hat. Gave a cemented sense of superiority.<p>

"Come now, Reynolds. We been exchangin' pleasantries long enough now to at least have come to _some_ sort of economical understanding wiv' each other. Surely you wouldn't be plannin' on backin down from me enterprise now, wouldja? Can't say that'll bode well for that scrappy resume o'yours."

"If I ain't made it clear enough to you yet 'bout my standards, Badger, allow me to polish my statement with shoe shine: Either I get paid right and fair for whatever cargo I agree to transfer, or you lose yourself another go-to man, with a handful of teeth on the side." Mal's mouth formed a thin, rigid line; emphasizing the amount of rage he was holding back.

Badger's smug smile spread wider. "Your empty threats hold nothin' on me, Reynolds. In case you here've forgotten, I'm the one 'olding the deck of cards. Way I see it, the only one unable to bargain with anything in regards to income is you. I own the black market here at Persephone, as well as all its dealers. You? You've got yurself a washed out Firefly model cargo ship, and a small motley crew. Neither of which seem to be prospering too well wiv'out an employer such as myself to refer to."

Mal's eyes narrowed defensively at the mention of his dingy ship. The man always seemed to have a strange devotion to the battered space tub. Badger knew he had Mal pinned at that one. Ultimately any sum would do for him, so long as he had enough to help him scrape by until his next gig. His ship was literally falling apart at the seams. He took careful note of that when he first stepped aboard the ship awhile back on Mal's last visit. Happened to have a right pretty passenger residing there at the time, if he recalled well enough: Big, shiny, brown doe eyes; rivulets of dark hair cascading along her slight face...She was bit snarky, as he remembered it. But he preferred girls with a bite. Kept them interesting. A glimmer in the back of his mind couldn't help wondering whereabouts she was in the 'verse since their encounter.

"Last I checked, you were our commissioner, not our employer." Mal's stoic co-captain piped up. Zoe something-or-other. "We're freelance. Don't you be deluding yourself into thinkin' otherwise, Badger."

Badger glanced over at her and gave a wry laugh. "Izzat so, love?" He rose from his chair and rounded his desk so he could face the two of them head on. It was a right lucky thing that they hadn't brought their meat-headed crony Jayne with him. He could do without the inconvenience of his additional presence. "Sure seems to be a loose term, given the increasing difficulty you've been having findin' yerselves any method of receiving wages. You been waving my calls rather routinely these past few months. Seems a desperate enough act for me. It's suggesting that you need pay rather desperately. Best way I can ensure you to remain loyal to my cause, is to pay you bit by bit."

Mal's jaw clenched. "I ain't plannin' on being reduced as your indentured servant, Badger. I weren't lying when I said that I _expect_ decent pay. You have a job, we do the job, we get paid. That simple. It ain't rocket science."

"No," Badger agreed. "It's business. And for the time being, I still have the better end of the stick. Make of it what you will, you need me, as well as a guaranteed income. I'm your best shot at gettin' that steady income, despite its meager amount."

Zoe arched an eyebrow quizzically. She understood that their argument would be a lost cause at this juncture. Scowling, Mal spat on Badger's shoe before turning his heel and stalking out of the room. "Didn't polish my statement well enough," He grouched, shoving past the guard at the door. Zoe cast Badger a final stern glance before silently following Mal out the door.

"Well, on the bright side," Badger murmured, looking disgustedly down to his slimed shoe, "at least he missed the Turkish rug. That thing's invaluable to me."

* * *

><p>"Gorram it Zoe, I don't know what that <em>Xi niao<em> w_u ming shao jwu_ thinks he is. But I ain't plannin' on lettin' him think he's the one in control of how we run things." Mal's strides echoed with the vehemence of his angered disposition. His seemingly permanent scowl deepened with his displeasure from their exchange with Badger.

"Didn't think you would, sir." Zoe responded calmly. Unlike Mal, Zoe kept a rigid, albeit passive countenance. Banters never bothered her much, on account of verbalizing had far fewer consequences than bullets tended to carry with them. No need to break reserve unless violence broke first.

The slums of the Eavesdown Docks was bustling with activity as it always had. Plumes of dust and engine exhaust puffed its way between the byways and buildings. Mal and Zoe weaved in between the chaos as they made their way back to _Serenity_. Still scowling, Mal walked up the gangplank into the cargo bay of his boat.

"Good morning, Captain." Shepherd Book acknowledged Mal as he strode angrily past him. Book raised his eyebrows inquisitively as his eyes followed after him. Zoe sidled up next to Shepard, placing her hands on her hips.

"We get any passengers?" Mal asked, continuing to beeline for the stairs, not bothering to look behind him as he directed his question.

"Well, not exactly, no. But—"

"Shiny," Mal ran his hand irritably through his hair. He slammed his hand against the rail as he ascended the grated stairs. "Just what I need. _Zhen dao mei...Mei yong ma duh tse gu yong, wo pi gu cao_ …." Mal's voice faded with him as he stormed out of the cargo bay.

Shepherd decided to overlook the vulgarities Mal spat out as he ranted. He cast a sideways glance back at Zoe. "Safe to assume the meeting with Badger didn't end well?"

"Since when has it ever?" Zoe affirmed. "I'm gettin' a gut feeling that Badger's in a bind of his own. It ain't like him to withhold our pay like that. At least, not at that sum."

"And how much is that?"

"Enough to ensure that we'll barely keep Serenity in one piece until our next job offer." Zoe said unhelpfully. Dropping her arms, she followed in the direction Mal had gone. "Seal the door once Jayne and Wash get back; Mal wants us to take off within the hour."

"Where are we bound?" Shepherd called after her.

"Harvest," Zoe responded. Then she too was gone, leaving Shepherd alone in the vacant, spacious room.

_Not even one crate of cargo to ship off..._Zoe stewed a bit on that as she walked towards the cockpit. _This is bad even for us. What could possibly be hinderin' our progress?_ Even Zoe knew that was a dumb question. The Alliance seemed to be the heart of every problem in the 'verse. She was more perturbed at the idea of _how_ thoroughly the Alliance had cleaned the slate in the black market. Made their jobs a mite more difficult than they started; especially given the fact that they were housing refugees, Simon and River Tam. Their presence alone wheedled their list of suppliers and job offers. The Alliance surely already had that notion in their heads, and were bent on making sure that any and all source of further protection was removed entirely from their access.

Zoe perched on her husband's pilot seat, and activated their comm unit. "Wash," she voiced through the mic.

"Reporting for duty, babe." Wash responded. His voice was scratchy due to the excessive white noise; a generous gift from the poor signal that the slum lands harbored. Nevertheless, the sound of her husband's voice still managed to make Zoe's heart flutter. He sounded so ecstatic being out and about, not chained to Serenity's cockpit. She was not looking forward to his reaction when Mal would announce the verdict of their income.

"Mal wants us air bound within the hour. Try and wrap up your errand and get yourselves home."

"You got it," Wash replied. "Hey, you wouldn't believe it, but Jayne and I managed to get two canisters of liquid nitrogen for a good deal! We'll be able to chill food and preserve some protein-free meals! How's that for luck?"

Zoe smiled sadly, aware that his euphoria would be short-lived. Best to save the bad news for Mal to share. She didn't want to spoil his euphoria. "That's great, dear. See you when you get back."

"We'll wave you when we get close."

Zoe cut off communication and swiveled on the seat, passing glances at Wash's assorted nicknacks he had displayed around the cockpit. She wasn't able to be nostalgic for long, before Simon made his way onto the bridge.

"Ah, I thought you were back."

"Mal's surliness give my presence away?"

"Something like that. Listen, could I have you in the infirmary for a small check up? I just want to makes sure you don't have any hindering repercussions from the explosion last week." Simon requested.

Zoe nodded her assent. "Be down in a few."

Explosion...Not an event Zoe cared much to remember. Everyone had to abandon ship when the catalyzer failed to function and their air supply was on the brink of giving out. Without the funds to provide added mechanical security, how long would they last until the next disastrous malfunction? Zoe shuddered to think.

* * *

><p>"Kaylee, you got a minute?" Mal, leaned into the doorway of the engine room.<p>

The young mechanic was working enthusiastically in the vicinity. The whirring sounds of Serenity's engine was the only music Kaylee ever had ears for. The louder and more vibrant the noise was, the happier Kaylee was. It meant the ship was running true. It reminded Kaylee of the incessant purring of a large and satisfied cat. Unfortunately, cats were only owned by rich folk, and Kaylee hardly had a chance to rightly come across one to really have an accurate basis for comparison. But she'd heard enough hear-tell of what them creatures was like for her to always want one. She fancied Serenity fit their description right perfectly. Kaylee and Mal both treated Serenity as more than just a ship, or even a home. They had each personified Serenity as its own entity. A savior of sorts for Mal, and a pet for Kaylee to adore and tend to. If there was one thing that Mal and Kaylee could relate to, caring for Serenity was their number one priority for just about anything.

"_Ni hao_, Cap'n!" Kaylee jumped up from the floor where she'd been tampering with the compression coils . "How'd things go dirt side?"

"Less than fantastic," Mal responded drily, "How are we here?"

"Right shiny. 'Soon as I get those synchronizers , and some new nuts and bolts, Serenity'll be all dressed up and ready for another trip."

"I'm afraid the nuts and bolts are the best we can afford right now before we take off." Mal shifted his weight on his left leg, his eyes boring into Kaylee's.

_He ain't joking,_ Kaylee observed. Her first instinct had been to laugh at his statement, as was her nature. But the seriousness of his expression showed Kaylee that he'd gotten them into another economic tight-ness. Her cheery disposition evaporated completely. " _Yeh su...Zhen dao mei_. You ain't joshin' are you?"

Mal's silence affirmed her question.

Kaylee exploded, "Cap'n, I been needin them synchronizers for months now! They're gett'n all rusted. Once they break down, our side propellers won't function together. And that makes fer some real messy landings and take offs."

"I know, Kaylee," Mal interjected, in attempts to quiet her so she could hear his case. "But they'll last us a while longer yet, specially if everything's braced nice and tight."

"Braced? Lemme tell you about 'braced'! Iffen I get my grimy hands on Badger's throat, I'll make it so that he gets stuck in one'o'those 'till kingdom come! Don't he know that we can't fly to run his errands without proper payment?

"Kaylee, this is a Firefly vessel. If you can function at half-awake to keep this old girl flyin', then there won't be no crash courses and imminent discomforts headin' our way. She'll stay true, 's long as she's bein' cared for." Kaylee was about to object, but Mal kept pressing on. "She made it back from Greenleaf to Persphone right fine, di'nt she? Shouldn't be too much trouble for her to take a route of similar distance. We're only headed backwards to Harvest; not a few blinks from Greenleaf." He paused, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes went downcast, unwilling to argue further. She hated to disappoint. Mal shifted to a softer tone. "Can you do that for me, Kaylee?"

Kaylee's expression twisted into a sour compliance. "Whatever you say, Cap'n." Mal departed, settled with the notion he had Kaylee in a better state of mind for their condition. Once Mal had left her sight, Kaylee kicked at a wrench that was laying near her feet by way of venting. "Ain't able to maintain her without maintenance supplies, though."

***TRANSLATIONS***

_Xi niao_ w_u ming shao jwu_- Piss washed nameless little foot soldier (Or, nobody/small fry)

_Zhen dao mei...Mei yong ma duh tse gu yong, wo pi gu cao_- Just our luck...Motherless goat of all motherless goats, my ass is fucked

_Ni hao-_ Hello/Hey there

_Yeh su...Zhen dao mei_- Jesus...Just our luck.


	2. Confusion and Desperation

_**A/N **__Good golly, Mal is such a sour puss! It never occurred to me just how prone he is with bickering with his crew (or anybody for that matter). Gah. It'll be nice to take a breather from his mood swings and transition over to some River scenes in the next chapter. Her writing will probably be infinitely harder; but at least I won't leave her head feeling angry all the time. Just...scrambled. And possibly scared. But that's okay, because fear is the number one motivator for storytelling, yes? That and fluff...But I probably won't __**instigate **__my romance elements until a bit later...Gotta have build up to keep it consistent and believable, yes? :D _

_Again, please don't be afraid to Read and Review. _

_Key word here is **Review: **I REALLY WANT TO AVOID DISCREPANCIES SO THAT I CAN KEEP YOU ALL INTERESTED AND NOT SEEM LIKE AN INCOMPETENT FANFIC WRITER! kthxbai._

_I hope you're all enjoying so far. :D I promise, we'll get the crew out of the economic mud and into some action soon. Just wanted to establish just how serious a debacle they're in with the restraints the Alliance has chained them in._

_**Disclaimer**: Nothing here is mine. Please don't sue, as I'm not really worth suing. _

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><p>Nothing spurs a man quite like his appetite. And in Jayne Cobb's case, that applied for almost any and every circumstance. He hadn't had a lick of natural food since the last time they were planet side. Being in the Black was great and all, but nothing truly stood a chance against his love for food. Or women. Or shooting things. Or money. Mostly the latter, though. He had a huge hankering for money with almost every breath he took.<p>

But foremost of appetites that was on his mind at the moment, was the smell of delicious cheese, imported _au naturale _from Persephone's urban centralized cities. Gorram it all, if he didn't have a crew he was forced (and paid) to take care of, then he'd've swiped that purchased dairy all for himself. He couldn't wait to get back to Serenity and begin feasting. Now if he had some crackers to go along with them...Mmm, he definitely planned to be raiding the Galley tonight; granted that _feng le_ moonbrain didn't bother tainting the food one way or another. He was right certain that it was within her capacity to do such a thing. She already crushed a box of crackers the last time the crew was stuck on Persephone, back when Badger wanted the crew to do a cattle run. Hell, she done tore up the infirmary plenty between then and now too. She was a walking hazard. Why in the _guai _was Mal so bent on keepin' her aboard?

Jayne was about to growl at the thought, but his stomach beat him to it. Obeying his appetite's demands, Jayne reached over the back of the Mule and snagged a newly purchased mango from their sack of groceries.

"Hey, hey...Jayne! Save some of that for everyone else! We haven't even reached the docks yet." Wash chastised. A glimmer of jealousy sparked behind his eyes. Obtaining fresh food was a tough commodity these days.

"Aw, Wash. We bought enough fer everyone to enjoy their share. I'm just eatin' mine sooner rather th'n later."

Wash turned his eyes back towards the road, steering the Mule with ease down the busy dirt roads. "Well, think you could spare me a peach, then? I can't stand just simply _smelling_ fruits while you're stuffing your face with them."

Jayne grunted and obliged, reaching back once more to grab a (smallish) peach for Wash. Jayne handed it over, and Wash failed to hide his disappointment. "Ah, peachy...You saved the best one for me. I appreciate your generosity, big guy."

"Hey, you weren't specific as to size," Jayne justified. " 'Sides, I'm sure Zoe wouldn't appreciate a pudgier version of you from overeating, anyhow."

"I hardly think a single fruit constitutes for a dramatic weight gain," Wash retorted. He took a bite out of the peach anyway. "Besides, my wife loves seeing me healthy."

"Wash?" Zoe's voice piped up from their communicators.

"Speak of the devil," Wash greeted, setting his peach to his side on the seat so he had an open hand to press the button to respond. "Hello, gorgeous."

"You about back yet? Mal's getting' awful tetchy."

Wash's expression darkened for a microsecond. After a clench of his jaw, he responded brightly "We're near approaching the docks, Zo. We'll only be a few more minutes." Then he clicked off.

Jayne piped up, sucking the lingering flavor the mango from the inside of his cheeks, "What's his rush anyhow?"

Wash shrugged, his eyes still dark. "Got me beat. It's just his way, I suppose...His usual, brooding, domineering way." Wash's hands tightened on the steering yoke, his knuckles whitening at the force of his clutch.

Jayne noted Wash's sudden tension, and sneered. His first instinct was to deride Wash for his over reaction, but frankly, he kind of agreed with him. So Jayne just turned his gaze the other direction and took another bite out of his mango. Mal _did_ have a sort of superiority complex; and it wasn't simply because he was captain. He seemed to have this constant, driving need for control and perfection. Of course, considering how often their plans tended to go south, it sort of justified Mal's routine displays of hairy conniptions. Responsibility had a knack for doing that to a man.

Owning up to the responsibility of every action for the benefit of the crew was probably the one thing that kept Jayne from ever trying to assume command. Responsibility wasn't exactly his strongest trait. Never had the motivation to be consistent with it. He was better suited to the "shoot first, ask questions later" tactic. _Impulsive, I think is what 'Nara calls it, _Jayne contemplated, sounding out the word carefully in his mind. Sounded like his kind of word.

The remainder of their drive was more or less quiet, aside from the hum of the Mule's aging engines. At least Wash successfully managed to mask his irked mood with his usual good humor. Market stalls were still set up as kiosks alongside the bazaar. Though the stream of traffic didn't seem to slow down much, the docks themselves, in contrast, were surprisingly vacant of parked ships. "Business seems to be runnin' a mite slow these days, dontcha think?" Jayne noted.

"I would agree. I'm guessing that folks are probably being pestered by the Feds for illegal docking or shipment or something. If my assumption is right, that may be why Mal is in such a hurry for us to skedaddle." Serenity's metal exterior winked in the sunlight as they approached her parking slot. Shepherd and Simon were seen at the rear of Serenity, leaning against the door of the airlock as the mule rolled its way on board. "Welcome back, gentlemen." Shepherd acknowledged. Simon stepped aside to provide space for the incoming vehicle.

Wash gave a friendly wave as he passed by, and parked the mule. He gave Shepherd a sideways grin. "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to use 'gentlemen' in the plural sense. Jayne has never exactly been of the 'gentle' variety."

"Damn straight," Jayne concurred. "But I definitely qualify in the 'manly' category." Jayne clapped Wash good naturedly on the shoulder and jumped off the mule, tossing the remainder of his mango at Simon.

Simon caught it instinctively, surprised by the sudden throw. "Gee, you shouldn't have," he remarked, disgusted. He glanced around the bay. "Is it really so hard for you to just dump this in a wastebasket? Or...somewhere that's not at _me?_"

Jayne ignored Simon. He never had time for the square-toed prig and his sarcasm. To Wash he said, "C'mon, help me lug the supplies offa this motorized piece-a-junk."

Wash took offense to Jayne's discourteous comment regarding the Mule. He was about to protest the remark, but the sound of Kaylee's voice beat him to it.

"Hey, don't you be harrassin' my machinery!" she objected, appearing from the far wall in the upper catwalk. "Mule's still got some life in him yet." Jayne glanced up at her as she scaled down the grated stairs. Even when she was chastising, she still managed to somehow sound cheerful. Kaylee turned her attention to Wash. "Didja manage to get those fuel cells I asked for?"

"Wouldn't have forgotten them, Kaylee." Wash reassured her as he hoisted himself down from the driver's seat. "Can't exactly fly without them in stock."

"Shiny! Think you could hand 'em over to me afore you start completely unloadin'? Mal is really goading for us to get off planet."

"What's got _his_ knickers in a twist?" Jayne asked, hoping Kaylee might have a better idea than he. "It ain't like we's bein' zeroed in by Reavers or the Alliance. Hell, even the local Feds don't seem to be payin' us much mind hereabouts"

"Wages were scratched." Mal's voice resonated from the back of the cargo hold. "And we ain't got no jobs while we stationed here either."

Jayne twitched in surprise at Mal's unexpected entrance. Then he processed what Mal said. It clicked. Anger flashed in his eyes. "No wages?" Now he was pissed. "Are you tellin' me that that _Xiabiàn tong_ Badger hornswaggled us _again_?"

"I'm tellin'," Mal confirmed.

"And you didn't do nothin' about it?" Jayne narrowed his eyes aggressively, stalking three paces closer to Mal. "Nah, I guess you didn't. Otherwise you wouldn't be here telling us we're in a pinch."

Mal situated himself in a more intimidating stance. "Jayne, I'm frankly not in the mood for your antics. I'm more likely to shoot you in the ankles than allow you to challenge my decisions like that at current. Or Ever. _Dong ma?_"

Jayne glared. "Yeah, yeah..." Pride withstanding, Jayne knew that it wasn't entirely Mal's fault that the earnings had suddenly slipped through their fingers again. Still, woulda been something of a comfort if Mal had at least beat the little man to a pulp for once. Learn _him_ a lesson in business. Of course, that argument was an old adage that Jayne never won a bout in, given that Mal always argued that Badger's defenses would have wiped out Mal and his crew before they could even act on such hostility.

Kaylee lowered her gaze, uncomfortable with having to be present for yet another verbal joust. "I'm just gonna...finish fine tunin' the steamer." She mumbled. Silently, she went fishing through the bag of supplies, and grabbed what she needed. Simon awkwardly attempted to help, and followed her out as she made a quick escape from the escalating tension. Shepherd, having temporarily left the scene to sign off on the computerized placard, returned and closed the airlock door.

Mal continued, undeterred by the interruption, but kept his anger in check. "Badger got the goods he charged us for, and provided us at least a bit of pay to scrounge for budgeting until our next stop. We got enough food to last us the better part of a voyage, and we got enough fuel to tank up Serenity for a trip to Harvest moon, long as she don't attempt to fall apart again."

Wash raised his hand, leaning poised against the mule. "Any reason why you want me _backtracking_ near Greenleaf territory? I hope you haven't forgotten that we _did_ just pull a major heist on their Alliance export ships?"

"Export ships ain't nothin' like their patrol cruisers," Mal replied. "Only reason Badger was willing to pay us a smidge in the first place was because a scratch of missing supplies won't irk the Alliance much. Not when they can easily resupply on a planet as fertile as theirs. 'Specially with an even more fertile moon to orbit it nearby. We'll merely be a fly on the wall in comparison to other problems they'd be worried about."

"Strangely, I have a strong urgin' to remind you that we're currently housin' their 'bigger problems' . Way I see it, that don't change our pre-dic-a-ment much." Jayne volleyed back.

Mal clenched his jaw. "My decision is set. Serenity'll cope, and we'll bide by fine. Alliance still doesn't know that we have the Tams under their nose. And we'll have better luck finding job over at Harvest, since there've been no dry spells in their farming profit lately."

There was silence after that. No one was willing to argue on that particular point. And Simon, thankfully, wasn't in the room to be able bitch about it.

Mal considered the issue closed. "Wash, get us in the air. Zoe's got her in gear for you, ready for lift off."

Wash furrowed his brow line and pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose, quieting his agitation. "Yes sir," he complied. "Does Inara know where we're headed?"

"I sent a wave to her shuttle. There was no response, so I left a message. I suspect she's still maintaining our...respectability. She'll catch up when she's able." Mal paused a beat, then put the discussion to full disclosure. "Shepherd, help Jayne put away those groceries. Wash, I'll see you at the bridge." Then at the turn of his heel, Mal vacated the room.

Jayne scowled as he reached over to scoop up the remaining sacks in the mule. So much for that midnight snack idea he had going. En route to Greenleaf, they'd best be keeping a steady rationing system to last them. Which meant less natural foods...and a steady diet of more protein based meals.

_Jīngcai._

* * *

><p>Simon hesitantly approached the ladder that led to the cockpit. He looked up and rolled up his sleeves, trying to hide the engine grease that stained them. He'd been helping Kaylee rev the system in the engine room and apply the fuel cells. It was messy work, but once Kaylee had assured him that she could finish prepping the steamers with two hands instead of four, Simon submissively obliged her invitation to let him free, which in terms of Kaylee's instinctive politeness, translated to <em>get out of her hair.<em> He _had_ been rather clumsy, despite his efforts to be helpful. Kaylee's cheery disposition was held together by a thin enough strand as it was, and his assistance was hindering her progress in recovering herself and Serenity's engine rather than helping.

"Captain?" He called up, not wanted to encroach on parameters that he wasn't qualified for. "Do you have a minute?"

Mal glanced down at Simon. "Can it wait? We're about to break atmo. I wanna make sure there're no Fed's high-tailing us while we make our exit."

"Oh. Y-Yes...Certainly." Simon stammered. The topic of Feds always had him apprehensive. Ensuring the possibility that the Feds weren't suspicious of the vessel's activity was always a good thing. Simon was willing to wait out for that verdict. The safety of him and his sister River was more pertinent than what he had to tell Mal. It definitely bought Simon some more time to avoid telling him. Or, more specifically, brainstorm other ideas that may break the news more eloquently, and diminish the risk of Mal decking him. He'd had the misfortune of being a victim of that on more than one occasion, and would prefer that his face remain as bruise-free as possible.

The ship shuddered incessantly as they continued to breach the limits atmosphere. Simon placed a hand on the rung of the ladder, waiting patiently until the ship stilled into the vacuum of space.

"There don't appear to be any signals riding up on our proximity," Simon heard Wash say from aloft. "Setting due course for Harvest. Which, by the way, I'm eager to hear what you have in mind for us to do once we get there."

"I'll let you know 'soon as I have all my ducks in a row," Mal replied.

"Gee, that's deeply reassuring. Is that your way of saying you don't have a plan yet?" Wash said sardonically.

"I don't rightly have time for your 'tude right now, Wash. I still need to fine tune some things. Your aggravatin' me ain't gonna help either of us until then. I'll let y'all know by dinner at the latest. Good enough for you?"

Wash must have gestured some sort of response, because Simon didn't hear him after that. Mal entered Simon's line of sight as he exited the cockpit and descended the ladder. Simon mentally cursed Wash for setting Mal off again. This was only going to increase the difficulty of Simon forwarding his information.

"Got something to share, doctor?" Mal asked, his arm still poised on the rung of the ladder he'd just climbed down. His broad frame contrasted starkly with Simon's narrower build. It put him at a slight disadvantage when trying to communicate with Mal as an equal individual.

"Yes. You'd asked me to inform you if there were any additional supplies I'd need to restock in the infirmary," he prefaced, casting a wary, but steady gaze on Mal's face, bracing himself for a reaction. To his surprise, his expression remained unchanged.

"That I did," He said, tight lipped. "What'd you come up with?"

Simon glanced down at the floor briefly, carefully considering his next words. He knew the discussion was viable to make a one-eighty degree turn in tone if he didn't use cautionary discretion. "Well...I ran an inventory on what supplies we've run short of, as well as created a list of provisions we should aim to accumulate." He directed his blue gaze right back at Mal's steely gray eyes. "Unfortunately, the amount we're in dire need of, while they outweigh the luxuries it'd be useful to have, they also outweigh the expenses that we earn on a regular basis."

Mal rolled his eyes and muttered a soft "_Ta ma duh." _Simon gave a brief nod in subtle agreement before pressing on.

"I've managed to minimize the list of med supplies that I predict we'll need the most. It's not exactly ideal for what I'd like to have for a basic kit. But I'm hoping it'll make due until we manage to get a generous offer in pay."

"Don't keep your hopes up, doc. 'S all I can say." Mal said. He was about to turn back to the direction of the cockpit, but Simon halted him.

"That was never my intent, Captain. However, I must request one condition before we make any purchases at that point in time."

Mal scoffed, irritation beginning to swell. He scratched lightly at his chin. "Condition?" Never a wise decision to challenge the Captain's authority. Not in Mal's book. He appeased Simon in any case.

"I must be ensured at least 5% of the medical budget to contribute to providing medicines for River."

"That's a rather weighty sum you're demanding there; 'specially if the inventory is as scanty as you claim." Mal crossed his arms, waiting to hear Simon's justification.

"I need to be able to keep a steady prognosis on River's behavioral tendencies. The more unpredictable she is, the less inclined you are to promising our safety. It's in your best interest that her medicinal needs are a priority." Simon elaborated his case, trying to get his message across as professionally as he could, without resorted to acting defensive.

Mal was less interested in making an educative deliberation on the subject. Peeved, Mal squared his shoulders and closed in angrily on Simon. His smoldering rage had deepened his glare, shadowing his brooding eyes. "No Simon. The only thing that interests me is that you got what we need to keep the crew from bein' dead, _dong ma?"_

Simon eyelids fluttered, his confidence was waning. "_Wo Dong._ But you need to understand—it's getting difficult to get a proper diagnosis for River if she's not lucid; and I need the right drugs to makes sure she's capable of describing her medical situation without feeling urges to start spouting in cryptic metaphors. Or demolishing things."

"She seems to handle well enough on her own while you're babysittin' her. Till we manage to get on our feet again, I don't expect any of us to be receiving top notch physicals."

At this, Simon snapped. "How soon do you think it will be for us to get enough money to afford all the med supplies we need? Setting aside a portion of income regularly is the best bet in getting medical supplies at a reasonable rate."

"Not when I've got the heart of the ship to look after, too. May have slipped your noggin, doc, but this boat's recently been subject to suffering the backlash for not being a priority earlier. Now I got more ship parts fallin' apart than I can shake five sticks at. I for one, am not willing to relive your last birthday celebration."

Simon winced at the memory. But that didn't stop him from vying as best he could to win favor in this discussion. He took a step closer, arguing up close and personal, his tone lowering dangerously. "And when a crew member faces the brink of death? What then? All it takes is one stray bullet; one mishap with a job gone south. Are you prepared to deal with that?"

Mal didn't budge, but his seething rage and authoritative response completely overpowered Simon's intimidation techniques. "If this ship goes out while we're in the black, we'll all be on the brink of death. I'm surprised you didn't break that down on your own from our our last close call."

Zoe called Mal from the bridge. "Sir, there's something you should see..."

"We're done here," Mal said, disdain dripping in his voice. Then he climbed back up the stairs.

Simon went his own separate way, muttering angrily under his breath. As he expected, the conversation didn't go smoothly. But he'd have to find some way to get the supplies he needed to help his damaged sister.

Speaking of which, it would probably be a good idea to check in on her. She seemed to have slept peacefully for an entire night without interruption, and continued to sleep the latter part of the day. It was so rare for her to sleep so thoroughly and peacefully, Simon hadn't the heart to wake her up and perform more examinations on her in the cold detached setting of the infirmary. Violence and fear tended to ensue from her end. But even long slumbers had to end at some point, and she'd almost slept through it all. Simon gave a bitter smile. How perfectly adolescent of her. He had a grim suspicion that the Academy she was trapped in didn't exactly allow for that sort of thing. Perhaps it was for the best that he let her sleep as long as she had. Then again, all growing teens also needed food in their system to keep them sustained and healthy. At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to check in on her.

* * *

><p><strong>*TRANSLATIONS*<strong>

_Au naturale - _Natural (french)

_feng le_ **- **crazy

_guai_- hell

_Xiabiàn__ tong _- piss bucket

_Dong ma?_ - understand?

_Jīngcai- _wonderful/brilliant.

_Ta ma duh- _damn/damn it

_wo dong-_ I understand.


	3. Deliberation

_**A/N: **So River's a tricky character to convey...I *really* hope I did her justice for this chapter. Difficult though it was (as I expected), it was also exceedingly fun. Building off of her metaphors that I created suddenly opened a myriad of other roads and directions that I could take this story...I can't wait to see where it takes me as I continue writing. I'm buzzed with the excitement of having written this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy! An R&R would not go amiss. :D I love and thrive off of praise and critiques. Please tell me what you think so far! Much obliged. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ Not mine. If it were, Jayne would be part teddy bear, and ten times more cuddly. _

* * *

><p><em><em>**Deliberation**

Mal clenched his jaw irritably. Being captain was challenging. Of course, that was something he knew right from the get go; long before the fancy of manning his own vessel even became a glimmer in his eye. But Badger had been making his job infinitely harder. The weasel had just about cut Mal to his final thread of patience. He'd love it if he could find a way to give Badger a taste of his own medicine for a change. Get a feel for what it was like to live on the dodge; constantly on the run from the Alliance.

_Ai ya,_ couldn't Simon have waited 'till _after_ Mal recovered from his bastard-mode? Neither of them were in a proper position to deliberate money and safeguarding the crew when they were struggling on a slippery slope in the first place.

Mal glanced over at his pilot, hunched over at the wheel, his shoulders rolled up to his ears. Zoe stood silently behind him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The gesture seemed to provide a quiet sense of comfort and stability for him, because Wash loosened slightly at the contact of her touch. Mal huffed quietly. He hated spreading his attitude like a contagion. Every time he had a foul attitude, it made the entirety of each trip absolutely miserable . But what was he to do? He had so much hanging over his head, and all the responsibility of ensuring his crew's well being was left on _his_ shoulders. He didn't have the kind of support Wash and Zoe had built off of each other. Frankly, how could he afford to? Relationships tended to complicate things. And not just the romantic kinds. Just the dynamics between he and his crew were evidence enough of how hard it was to keep bonds strong between folks. But, it was the price he had to pay to keep himself alive and flying. Same went for all of them.

He could at least count himself lucky that the trip to Harvest wouldn't take much longer than a day or so. And the possibility of landing a job with _full_ pay was all the more likely. Harvest was a place of honest folk; farmers who would likely just ask for a healthy supply of Genseed to allow their trade to continue being profitable. And once the job pulled through, Mal surely wouldn't mind parking there for awhile. It was a good society living there. Civilized, but not yet touched by the influence of the Alliance. The rich quality of their soil was the only true desire the Alliance had. And they were more keen about urban society than farming; though they understood the importance of the latter. Greenleaf, the planet Harvest orbited, was similar in having an abundance of rich soil. But since it was a bigger setting in the Border setting near the Core, it held more value to them. Keeping it's value, however, depended entirely on how long farmland would actually remain on Greenleaf before the Alliance completely citified it. Then all eyes would be pointed hungrily in Harvest's direction. Just like that, there'd be one less world occupied by free-living Independents.

The thought made Mal sick to his stomach. His decision was made: They were going to pay a long term visit to Harvest after they pulled this job. They had to. Not many other places would continue being safe to stay. Then once all was recuperated, he was bent on ensuring that Badger would regret ever trying to pigeonhole Mal just for the sake of wiping his ass clean of any _illegal_ ambiguities.

* * *

><p>River sat in a contemplative silence, leaning languorously against the soft cushions piled behind her. She tilted her head back and inhaled slowly, drinking in every scent; both familiar and foreign alike. The all-consuming darkness of her surroundings left her feeling as though she were suspended in mid-flight, adrift in a moment hidden between the threads of the clockwork of time. Location was irrelevant; knowledge and power were equally irrelevant. Trapped inside the folds of her mind, cataloged for a later opportunity. The silence left an exotic flavor in the back of her mouth, draining slowly like syrup down her throat. Not even a buzz of unwanted commotion plagued her mind. For once, the darkness no longer held any blinding hostility. She felt...safe. Prepared. Not licked by flames skirting a rooted post. No blinking sirens and ghosts of secrets balancing the tips of fate. Just silence.<p>

Buddha, it felt nice. Strange, but not unwelcome. Stilled and contained; a moment of domestication. Her eyes fluttered open, adapting subtly to the claustrophobic embrace of complete darkness. The room was lush with furniture and decoration; but held an atmosphere of rigid professionalism accompanied with the scent of whiskey residue and wood stain.

_He's hiding underground; blind and industrious...stretching his feelers for a safe path to tread. The girl is obligated to provide a gentle current the right direction. Mustn't fail; The lightning bug is trapped within the glass...Light snuffed out. Weakening with every attempt of escape. Limited probability of success without the aid one familiar with the loud darkness and the sleeping wasps._

Her head cocked slightly to the side, listening for the one sound she'd been waiting for. It wouldn't be long now. She gave a sideways smile, whimsical and secretive.

"'_For he comes, the human child...to the waters and the wild.'_...Time to set the lightning bug free._"_

* * *

><p>Simon frowned, thoroughly confused, and his panic starting to rise. He was at a complete loss. He stood in the center of the cargo bay, void of cargo, void of...<em>anything<em>. River would have a hard time hiding in here, even within the crevices of the walls and between the grated catwalks. "River?" He called out anyway. Since first trying to find her, her name had been about the only words that had uttered from his mouth.

He checked through the entire ship again. Then again. Nowhere in the galley; not even under the table, which had been a recent favorite niche for her. He checked all of the passenger dorms, twice more in her own room. He searched in the spare shuttle, in the small lounge outside the galley. He referred back to Kaylee in the engine room, and even checked the infirmary. He wouldn't expect her there anyway. She avoided that room like the plague. His pace quickened with every search. What started as an anxious fast walk at some point transitioned into an all out run. He was looking in the most unconventional of hiding places. Where could she be? He stopped dead cold after he found himself back in the cargo hold. A dreaded pallor dawned on his face and his eyes widened. She couldn't...didn't...wouldn't. Would she?

Simon swerved and ran back towards the cockpit. "Mal!" he shouted.

He was there faster than he could blink twice, skidding to a stop once he breached the entrance of Wash's territory. "River's gone." He hadn't even bothered to acknowledge that he'd interrupted another heated conversation between the captain, pilot, and first mate. Well, they could add a new record for how many ill-met discussions had taken place in one day.

Mal snapped his head Simon's direction, surprised at the added intensity that burst into the room. "She's likely just hidin' somewhere. She'll come 'round when she's willing. At least I haven't had a reason to shoot _her_ yet today." He was about to turn back at Wash and keep bashing heads.

Simon shook his head. Whatever he was cussing about to Wash, it was far less pertinent than the fact that _River was missing._ "I've checked every possible place. At least twice. She's gone."

Mal rolled his head back in aggravation and faced Simon head on. "Maybe she decided to take a moonwalk out in the black. It ain't my job to keep track of her every whim and action. That's _your_ responsibility. Stop whinin' to me about what I can't fix."

Simon shook his head, "I checked the space suits, too. They are all present and accounted for. I'm telling you, Mal. _She's not here._"

Wash continued seething silently, clearly agitated for being interrupted from whatever verbal joust he and Mal and he were in the midst of having. But a flash of concern traced his brows at Simon's announcement. That brought Simon a small amount of relief. At least _someone _was willing to take River's absence seriously.

Mal's face twitched, realizing that Simon wasn't being as petty as previously conjectured. He blinked a few times to collect himself. He finally said, "_Wo kàn dào de..." _Then he turned and activated the intercom. "This is your captain speaking; if anyone sets sights on a crazy little fugitive, escorting her back to her paranoid brother would not go amiss." He clicked off and gave Simon a look, daring to challenge him.

Simon frowned, affronted. If Mal's intentions were to mock and belittle him, he was succeeding all too well. He balled his fists angrily. "Did you not just hear me? I searched high and low, and I haven't found a trace of her!"

Mal turned his attention out to the large window of the bridge, by way of ignoring Simon's childish outcries. "And chances are still good that you still may have just overlooked someplace. She's got a knack for knowing how not to be found. Now, if she's truly gone AWOL, then I wager that she's equally capable of remaining unseen as she pleases. We'll nab her on the way back from this job."

"We can't just _leave_ her on Persephone! We don't even know if that's where she ended up! We were parked on a public docking bay; she could have made her way into virtually _any_ vessel! Lord knows what could be happening to her right now! What if the Alliance has found her?"

"If I was worried of the Alliance finding her, then I'd be more inclined to halt everything and hunt her back down. She can handle on her own well enough. It'll only be a few days we'll be gone. Badger's cronies are all over the place down there. Chances are stronger that she'd be found by them before Alliance. And as you all've reassured me, she managed to hide her identity just fine without help last time she had a run-in with Badger and his gang." He gave a shrug, and glanced over at Simon who was still fuming. "Now, if we were to go _back_ to Eavesdown Docks, not two hours from having docked there previously, as records had shown..._that_ sparks suspicion to the Feds. Then we'd be in a tighter position than we would have been if we just let River stick around 'till we swooped back for her."

Simon had drawn his arm back, preparing to swing for a punch. But his motion was leashed with the strong, overpowering hand of Jayne, who had appeared from behind him. Apparently the raised voices also raised some of his attention. "Idjit. I wouldn't do that if'n I was you." Jayne sneered, he grip unrelenting. "'Much as I wanna club Mal myself sometimes, now ain't the time to be doin' so."

Simon, unable to writhe free of his clutch, resorted to thrashing angry words back at Mal. "SHE'S. MY. SISTER! She's a severely traumatized, unstable young girl! You can't expect me to condone with leaving her exposed to the Alliance! She's not some covert agent of espionage! She won't be able to handle herself alone; not with a price attached to her head! "

"How can you be so sure she ain't able?" Mal challenged.

"Alone? River flew the coop?" Kaylee had rushed in to the scene. Her eyes widened in alarm at the scene before her. Simon's thrashing had instantly froze, and all eyes turned on her.

"That's the theory." Jayne said drily. Apparently he shipped with Mal in the sentiment that River was just hiding again.

"It seems to be leaning more towards a serious possibility," Zoe considered, her calm voice intercepting the swell of all the tension. "She's been missing all day since the early part of this morning. Far as I know, she's never stayed out of sight—or trouble—for this long before. Screams abnormality to me; especially given her circumstances."

"Well, aren't we gonna go find her? " Kaylee asked, her voice raising in pitch. She clasped her hands anxiously together, and swept her eyes around to everyone on the crew, desperate for someone to respond with the affirmative. "We can't just leave her there all forgotlike."

"We can't afford to go back right away, Kaylee." Mal said, almost apologetically. His tone and repose was instantly calmer at her presence. No one liked it when Kaylee was upset, and she done been upset with foul moods all day. "If we docked at Eavesdown again after having _just _docked there, then Feds will be eyeballing us lots closer than any of us would appreciate. They'd call us out immediately, and we'd have no luck finding her, because we'd be blocked by bars instead. Persephone has a huge population, and she's well hidden in the heart of the slums. Fewer people are likely to recognize her while she's there than she would be otherwise."

Simon, accepting that fighting against the brute strength of Jayne was futile, went slack, and gently tried to shove him off instead, silently by way of telling the Mercenary that he was calm enough to handle his temper. Jayne complied, giving a grunt of distaste.

"I have a hunch," Shepherd had piped up, finally making his appearance known. He had been leaning along the door frame in the entrance of the bridge. "Inara has stationed herself at Persephone for the time being; She hasn't given a time frame for how long she plans to stay there, but she may have more luck in finding River while she's already there."

This notion hadn't appeared to have crossed anyone's mind.

"It wouldn't be too outrageous to assume that River sneaked on board Inara's shuttle before she left," Wash added. "Why she would do such a thing is beyond me, but it's a probable assumption that that's as far as she's gone."

"And the most likely," Shepherd agreed. "I'd been standing the Cargo hold all day, trying to be available for potential passengers. River never once made an appearance, and the hold is the only way off this boat aside from the shuttles."

"So, she's a lot closer than we originally thought," Kaylee deduced, nodding. There was a spark of optimism in that. Already she was feeling reassured. "See, Simon? Nothin' to worry about." Skepticism and apprehension still laced her tone, though.

"Shiny." Mal exclaimed. "Glad we sussed that out. Wash? If you would, drop a line to Inara and ask her to keep a lookout for River before she heads back our direction. Kaylee, finish up your tweaking in the engine room, 'cuz we're still goin' for smooth sailing towards Harvest."

"Since when has 'smooth' ever been a term that applies to you, sir?" Zoe asked lightly.

"Well, sweet-talking fate does tend to be my undoing, I'll agree." Mal allowed.

Jayne leered at the statement. Weren't that the truth. He gave a gruff dismissal, not caring to stick around for any further banters. "I'll be in my bunk. Lemme know we're there." He didn't hesitate to shove Simon to the side as he lumbered out of the room. "_Feng le_ doctor done havin' ta _bie woo lohng...Hwo gai, chwen." _he grumbled as he made his exit.

Simon was still supremely dissatisfied with the crew's decision, but he was entirely outvoted. Best he could do, was hope their plan worked.

Mal gave him a pointed look. "Why don't you do another search, see if it makes you feel better." A clear way of saying, _Your presence is not welcome. Go away before I find an excuse to hurt you. _Simon heeded to message, and departed. As he bitterly stalked down the neck of Serenity, he couldn't help wonder if he'd be at all capable of flying a shuttle on his own, with no previous flight experience...

* * *

><p><strong>*TRANSLATIONS*<strong>

_Ai ya_ - Damn/damn it

_Wo kàn dào de_ - I see.

_feng le - _crazy

_bie woo lohng - _commit a blunder of great magnitude

_Hwo gai, chwen. - _You asked for it/You got what you deserved, dumbass.


	4. Intervention

If Badger could provide a summation for how he viewed his life, it would be as follows: He hated it, but loved the way he lived it. Seemed a fair enough distinction to him. Dirty work was the essence of who he was. He couldn't _not_ love it. However, choosing such a lifestyle also meant that there were certain ramifications that inevitably plagued him. Those were not so pleasant to have around. It meant that he had to tread carefully, no matter where he went. That's not to say that he didn't fancy the folk at Eavesdown. They were pleasant enough, so long as you never gave a reason for any of them to stab you in the back. The bureaucrats were the only ones who would have the slightest potential or inclination to do so; else wise, _he _was the one in control of everyone beneath his rank. There were very few beneath him that would be willing to attempt to do away with him in any case. Malcolm Reynolds, specifically. But his visits were so few and far between, that Badger was always able to reenforce enough henchmen and paperwork against Reynolds to avoid that possibility.  
>Reynolds was the least of his concerns, though. Badger had, as they say, bigger fish to fry. The Alliance had been riding up on his <em>pi gu<em> ever since a few blokes from his clientele complained about his responsibility in heading petty theft and organized crime.

The Alliance's advances on him were merely a pretense, of course; no one but the Alliance knew that Badger was working for BlueSun Co. as their undercover mole; the insider who squealed about other illegal goings-on. It was the bargain he made with them to reduce his jail-time sentence when he was put on trial so many years ago back in the Dyton colony. He agreed to secretly provide intel on illegal activity, and in return, he got ignored by the lawmen for the dabbles of his own.

His privileges didn't stop the fact that the Alliance was still hella-distracting; and a nuisance that he could do without. His notoriety had been raised rather substantially in his line of work, since all the other black market princes got themselves pinched by the law, and he was still standing. Badger's in with the Alliance was the only thing saving him from being thrown out like yesterday's news. Of course, given all the problems the Alliance had been having with fugitives lately, it'd be just his luck if his free pass wouldn't last much longer. Especially if they found out about Badger's true loyalties and motivations outside both the Alliance _and_ his black-market practices. He was a man of his own agenda. Always had been.

As the pretty lass on Mal's boat had expressed so intuitively, he was indeed 'a sad little king on a sad little hill'. But, it was better to be king of something than nothing, was his philosophy. Besides, his kingdom may be small. But not as small as she probably originally surmised...not even his lowlife mates in Dyton knew how expansive his underground network was. The thought of that produced a reflective smile to flicker across Badger's face.

"Badger. There's a code 12 down in the lower level." The voice of Badger's lead henchman withdrew him from his reverie. He glanced up at the mass of muscle that stood before his desk.

"Undastood, Marcus." Badger gave a curt nod. He rose from his desk and headed towards the brown, threadbare tapestry that he had suspended on the far wall of his office. The curtain was what hid the entrance to his underground slave-trade facility.

Badger gestured for the dark, burly man to accompany him as he lifted the veil of the tapestry. Beneath it lay the doorway to a darkened tunnel. "which hall?" he asked.

"Far east, compartment 31D." Marcus responded.

Badger's heart froze. _31D? Again?_ He paused, then glanced back up at Marcus. "You canna be serious. We 'aven't had an episode occur down there fer weeks. I thought there was improvement?"

Marcus shook his head regrettably. "'Fraid not, sir."

"_Ta me de..."_ Badger swore. Not entirely surprising, but still...As far as he knew, this was the longest stretch of time that disaster had been avoided successfully.

Badger wasted no time and crossed into the threshold. He walked down a dark, narrow passage that led to a sealed door. Marcus maintained a close distance behind him. Pressing his thumbprint on a security system, the door opened automatically, and Badger entered, stepping into room revealing a vast labyrinth of corridors. He navigating his way seamlessly through the extensive tunnels and byways that shaped the darkened burrow. Steel doors were latched on the sides of every wall, with numbers and letters inscribed on the fronts of them.

"How long as this been goin' on, Marcus? Why didn'tchu tell me the meds weren't workin' on 'er?"

"She lapses, sir, as the doc spake. Surmtimes she's wivout trouble, but next thing you know, she's blatherin' nonsense an' _goh se_."

Badger tensed, aggravated at Marcus' choice of words. Finally, he approached the door to compartment 31D. "I expected better of you, Marcus." he said as he typed the entrance code on the panel in front of the door, and the door breathed open. Badger leaned close to Marcus, speaking with intimidating force, despite his smaller size. "Don't give me an' excuse to eliminate you. _Notify me_ when this stuff 'appens. Immediately. Or you're aimin' to find yur days of livin' ta be a mite limited." Marcus nodded apologetically, hardening his gaze to quell the fear he had regarding Badger's threat.

The room was dark. Badger saw the cause of the dilemma cowering in a corner, mumbling incessantly. A physician was crouched beside her, reaching to calm the poor girl.

"What's happened?" Badger asked, maintaining his distance.

The young physician sighed and looked up at Badger. "Another seizure, followed by a slew of incoherent babbling. She was on the verge of trying to gouge her eyes out before one of us heard her uproar. We've stabilized her some, but we're not sure how long it's going to last."

Badger watched the girl grimly. "Let me talk to 'er."

The physician nodded. "Of course, but..."

"Alone," he specified.

"Sir, with due respect, I'm not sure that's such a good idea...she's unpredictable enough as is, and-"

His eyes grew hard and dark . "Perhaps I wasn't bein' explicit enough. 'Less'n you want me to hightail you back into slavery like your _hun dahn _of a husband originally sent you here for, I recommend you do as I say."

The physician shuddered. An unattractive reaction for such a pretty brunette. Shame he had to intimidate her. "No, I...I understand. I'll just be outside the door. Let me know if you need me." She stood from her location and walked towards the door, giving a hesitating glance back at her patient as she left. She paused in front of the door, clearly deliberating if she should give one more parting word. Unable to hold back her exasperation, she turned back to Badger. "I know I'm over stepping bounds, sir, but if you want me to help your patient here, I really feel that it might be helpful if you filled me in on some of the secrecy. She's undergoing symptoms that I have never seen at this magnitude. What happened to her? Is there any way you can shed some light as to what caused her to have suffer the way she has?"

Badger's eyes never left the cowering girl's figure. "...slave trade, doctor...Don't make me remind you again." He responded; a threat to get her to stop asking questions. She couldn't afford to know the secrets he harbored from this girl. No one could know. It would cost him _everything_ if they knew the girl's whereabouts...even her true name was dangerous to exploit. He couldn't risk it.

The doctor took the hint. "Understood. Sorry, sir." The door sealed shut, leaving Badger and the young patient in complete darkness.

"Well now, luv. Care to tell me why you's so upset?"

Jayne had been anticipating that the doctor would do something stupid. For bein' so smart, he sure didn't excel at thinking things through when it came to his moonbrained sister. Not that Jayne cared about both of them being gone. It would save the crew a ton of trouble, that's for sure. Jayne would have had no problem watching Simon leave _Serenity_ on the spare shuttle to find his sister and stay gone for forever and a day. Hell, he'd eagerly be helping to haul his ass out of there and make it look like he'd done the prig a favor.

There unfortunately, was only one flaw with that wonderful solution to all his problems: The fact that the gorram spare shuttle was registered to _Serenity_. Iffen the Alliance nabbed those two young'uns (which, given how often they found themselves in trouble, the possibility wasn't that unlikely), then they'd trace the vessel right back to their Firefly model. Then they'd have it in for housing and assisting known fugitives. Even if the crew denied it, it wouldn't matter to the Alliance; they had to blame _somebody_ for the prolonged absence of the Tam siblings.

A head-in with the Alliance would at least have some shootin' involved. Jayne was plenty settled with that. He loved a good fire fight. But even he knew that the law always prevailed in the end, even when the crew escaped by the skin of their teeth. It was not worth Jayne becoming another largely-sought after outlaw. Well...infamy was nice. It was an attractive quality for womenfolk, and it steeled terror into the hearts of men who would have otherwise challenged Jayne to a fair fight. Yeah, bein' infamous would be right shiny. But being dead or behind bars, though...not so much. And it was also likely that Mal probably would shoot him senseless if he discovered that Jayne allowed Simon to run off. _That_ thought was a touch scarier than even prison was.

Immediately after Shepherd had (more or less) dissuaded the tension on the bridge, Jayne wasted no time to make sure Simon would not leave the vessel. As soon as he vacated the scene, he grabbed his Le Mat revolver and proceeded down to the cargo hold. From there, all Jayne had to do was wait for Simon's inevitable arrival. He lounged comfortably on the pilot's seat in the shuttle. Wouldn't take the idjit long to make his foolhardy decision.

Sure enough, it wasn't but five minutes and Simon was attempting to sneak into the shuttle. His footsteps were quiet-like, but Jayne could hear him coming due to the loudness and shakiness of his breath. Jayne scoffed at Simon's ineptness. It's not like he was wearing a space suit low on oxygen or nothing. He must tend to breath heavy when he's nervous. _Bet he never got to successfully steal cookies in his rich-ass kitchen as a kid._ Jayne found this last thought so amusing, he felt it necessary to repeat it out loud to get Simon's attention.

Simon jumped at the unexpected sound of Jayne's voice. Trying to hide his panic, Simon reached for a nearby wall and tried to lean against it nonchalantly. Though the words that escaped his mouth were anything but. A common problem, Jayne noted. Simon feigned hearty surprise, but his inflection was far from subtle. "Jayne...W-what, what brings you here?"

Jayne leered in response. "Don't play dumb with me, twinkle-toes. We both know why you're here; and I s'spect you got a purty good idea as to why I got here before you could." His eyes narrowed as he made his accusation.

Simon looked baffled, and...almost put out, Jayne reckoned. "Okay...clearly you're more perceptive than I'd originally assumed..."

Jayne couldn't _quite _tell, but that sounded an awful lot like Simon just gave him a back-handed compliment about not being an idiot. The aftertaste of Simon's comment tasted sourly like Lawrence Dobson's accusation back when the Tams first entered the boat. Pissed him off. What was with all these rich snots deciding that Jayne was some dumb muscle-man? Sure, he weren't very bright most of the time; but he sure as hell wasn't slapstick _stupid _either.What, did all the rich folk _conspire_ to try and mock Jayne's intelligence? They seemed the only ones adamant in the belief that he was useless somehow.

Jayne pointed his gun at Simon's feet, offended. Mal talkin' earlier about being tempted to shoot him in the ankles...It done gave Jayne a great borrowed idea. "And clearly, you're not as smart as you claim." Jayne retorted, keeping his aim steady. "Now, you just get yerself back to your infirmary or wherever you like to brood, or I'll start showin' you the true definition of a 'twinkle-toes.'"

Simon raised his hands slowly, and tried to speak his peace. "Jayne, I'm just going to try and find River. I don't plan to commandeer the shuttle altogether. No one would even know I left—"

"I'm itchin' to test a theory here, pretty boy: See if dancin' ain't a hereditary trait in your family. Care to prove me wrong?" Jayne asked, losing patience. "Either you leave now, or I start shootin'. Then things are bound to get ugly. And I ain't just talkin' about the potential ugliness of your clogs, _dong ma?_"

"But, River..."

"Gorram it, doc, I don't care about your ruttin' sister! Get yer ass off this shuttle, or I'll blow it off for you!" Jayne cocked his gun to show just how serious he was.

"All right," Simon caved, taking a step back. "I get it; I'll leave."

"What's goin' on, fellas?" Kaylee's sweet voice announced her presence. She was all smiles, bent on staying cheerful as best she could. Until she took one look at Jayne's pistol. Then her smile dropped and exasperation took over. "_Tzao gao. _Did I really just waltz into yet _another_ pissing match?"

Simon and Jayne both cast guilty expressions toward each other briefly, sharing the same sentiment. If something didn't sit pretty with Kaylee, then all hell would undoubtedly break loose. Kaylee proved them right.

"No. I ain't standin' for these short tempers any more today. Not if I can't help it. Jayne, put the gun away. I went and got dinner all set fer everyone, so you two best plan on joining in withOUT havin' any bickering. If I hear so much as one word that ain't pleasant, you'll lose yer eating privileges for the night! _Go hwong tong_." She gave a final glare before leaving Jayne and Simon to settle their dispute quickly in order to get food.

Jayne for one, really wanted food. Especially if Kaylee made it. He didn't know how she did it, but every time she cooked, she managed to make protein taste less like the _goh se_ that it normally was. He wasn't inclined to let prissy Core boy take up his meal time. Eating sounded mighty pleasant compared to continuing to arm wrestle with the dopey doctor in any case. Jayne lowered his gun and slipped it lazily back into his holster. "Don't think that we're through here. After dinner, you an' me won't be friends just on account of Kaylee."

"I was never under the impression that we were friends." Simon replied laconically. "And, quite the contrary. You've made your point to me well enough. We have nothing more to discuss."

Then Simon departed.

_Well, that was unexpected,_ Jayne thought. He hadn't anticipated for Simon to leave the scene with his head held high and his dignity intact. Jayne's intent had been quite the opposite. Hrm. What a buzz-kill. Jayne slouched back in the chair and thought for a moment, mildly perplexed: who in the hell actually won the argument? That thought truly had him stumped.

_ All in a day's work_, Badger sighed, scuffing his shoes along the rough side street. Night had already consumed the docks at Eavesdown. Tourists and daytime busy-bodies had settled down significantly in numbers, with villains and doxies prowling in their place. On his way out, a voluptuous redhead had tried to pull Badger's attention her way, but Badger's thoughts were too preoccupied to really pay her any mind. Striking though she undeniably was, Badger didn't feel in the mood to flirt openly. Perhaps some other night. A night when indiscernible chaos wasn't spiraling out of his control.

Reality sometimes had a painful method of reminding him of how much his life truly sucked, despite his efforts to convince himself otherwise. Truthfully, the only times when he was pounded down by his depressing state of mind, was when he would return to his empty home every night. Wealth was great (no matter how he came to get it), but he never had anyone to share it with; and those he would, he couldn't because they were either too far away, behind bars, or too dangerous to exploit in a public setting. Badger sighed. Yep. His family was pretty messed up. He was no exception, most certainly. But he had to keep as clean a record as he could to keep the Alliance from breathing down his back. And the best way he could ensure that, was to break all contact with his family. Black business was better done with nothing to attach yourself to. Otherwise the Feds would trace your crime record faster than a bullet could fly. The laws of deductive reasoning were a bitch.

Badger paused at the crossroads of the bazaar. Everything was void of activity...silent. A few shopkeepers were closing up shop and heading home just as he was. But otherwise, the streets were entirely empty. He couldn't help feel a bit pensive in the stillness of the night. He redirected his gaze to the silhouetted horizon of the cityscape that towered just beyond the slums. Looming had always been the strong suit for those loyal to the Alliance. The sight of the lighted city was certainly no exception to this. He hated it. It made him feel like a bug beneath a magnifying glass. He deserved better. Badger's face contorted, as if he tasted something horribly sour, and spat at the dirt. He kept walking forward. Gorram politics making him all wound up...He just needed a flask of whiskey and some sleep. Alcohol did a convincing job of taking the edge of his mood.

Badger didn't live too far from the docks. He never liked the idea of being unable to get to his office in a hurry if something sudden had come up—a byproduct of being in a business that thrived in any given point in time. Marcus covered for him pretty well in the midnight shift. More of the dangerous folk preferred nighttime negotiations, and since Badger fancied himself as more of a businessman, day time hours suited him better. Men were more terrifying at night, and he had a harder time getting men like that to take him seriously. Marcus had more...presence than Badger did. He had the build, the intimidation factor, and he wasn't half bad at negotiating, either. If Badger ever felt compelled to pass the baton in the business, Marcus would be a decent candidate. Contrary to what Badger told him earlier, he had no intention to remove Marcus from the business. Mistakes happened; and Badger knew it would be a mistake to get rid of Marcus.

Badger approached the porch of his measly manor. His little niche in the 'verse. It wasn't much by way of looking at. In fact, it looked more like a geometrically enhanced version of a beaver dam. A four story home made entirely of wood. It was a bit weathered down, but it still succeeded in appearing dignified and authoritative in its own way. The roof was in shambles, and the awning on the porch was only supported by one pillar (he'd had a feisty argument with fella who got a bit possessive over his doxy), and the shutters on his windows were hanging on desperately to their hinges, leaning respectively where the wind blew them.

Not exactly the most respectable idea of a rich man's home. But Badger wasn't rich enough to keep the place maintained, nor did he really ever care much for perfection. A pristine home reflected a pristine man, and Badger would have nothing to do with either. Besides, it was the biggest house in the slums. It made him feel like a town mayor, because no one had ever bothered to try and remove him from it.

Badger removed his key-shaped pin from his lapel and used it to unlock his door. Then he turned the latch and entered. In the antechamber, he hung his wool blazer on the coat rack, followed by his derby hat. Badger put his pin safely in his pocket and loosened his ascot.

A sudden smell overwhelmed him. Was that...incense? Badger gave a deliberate whiff trying to detect the scent. Sure enough. He never used that stuff, though. Always made him want to gag. It was for that very reason that he never even _owned_ incense. Someone was in his house; it was the only explanation for the sodding scent to even be present. The question was who, and why?

Badger slowly reached down at his ankle where he had a dagger holstered. Then, just as quietly, he tread down the hall, following the scent. He rounded the corner of the hall, entering his living room space. It was dark inside, and a bit hazy from the smoke of the incense. A figure was seated on his favorite lush leather couch. He couldn't detect who it was until they reached lethargically over to the lamp at the right of them. A dim light broke through the haze, and Badger recognized his uninvited guest immediately. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or downright angry.

She was curled up in his couch, hugging one leg over her torso, with the other dangling toward the ground. Expensive silk garments cascaded along her form, the jewel tones seductively complementing her skin. She tilted her head to the side, her big brown eyes cast directly at him. She looked like a saloon girl, especially with the smog of incense drifting around the dim warm lighting that the room provided.

Badger felt a sharp constriction inside his ribcage, shocked and baffled at the unexpected sight before him. He gave a small intake of breath, trying to alleviate some of the tension there. "_Shun Sheng Duh Gao Wahn..."_

***TRANSLATIONS***

_pi gu - _Ass

_hun dahn_ - Bastard

_Tzao gao - _Ohcrap

_Go hwong tong - _Enoughofthisnonsense_._

_Goh se - _Shit

_Shun Sheng Duh Gao Wahn – _HolytesticleTuesday_._

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN** Yeah, so the ending portion of this chapter kinda sucks...I knew what I wanted to happen in the end, but getting there was difficult._

_And I'm sure you are all REALLY confused with Badger's storyline right now, since both of his POVs end with a sucky cliffhanger. But, your confusion was deliberate on my end, so it's a good thing if you are. Don't worry, the following chapter clears things up, I promise. _

_READ AND REVIEW! PLEASE! :D  
><em>


	5. Instigation

**Instigation**

_**A/N** many apologies for the hold up! I'm condemned to writing three papers a week for school, and I'm part of a drama production, so tech weekend is looking right around the corner which means I will be very sleep deprived for a while, and too busy to sneak away and write fan fiction. BUT don't lose hope in me! I still plan to continue writing._

_Another reason this chapter took so long was because I was trying very hard to portray a believable interpretation of River. Not sure how well I succeeded, but I gave it my best shot. There may appear to be many POV (point of view) Violations in her snippet, but that's entirely intentional, because she hears the thoughts of those around her as acutely as she can her own...I kind of wanted to get that feel when I wrote it._

_And I added some shameless fluff for Kaylee and Simon. Slow going, as ever. But what can you expect? Kaylee's a sentimental creature, and Simon is a dunce. Dynamics like that inevitably make for slow progress._

_Anyway, Enjoy! R&R, too! I like feedback. :)_

_**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine. I just like pretending otherwise._

River cast her eyes squarely in Badger's direction. The echoes of his thoughts danced in and out along the edges of her mind, like shadows flickering through fire light. Flitting, and faint, but ever present. '_She doesn't look ...real danger...but it's not like...wrong before.' _Badger maintained a safe distance, keeping his dagger poised in his hand, ready to hurl it at the girl if she did something unpredictable.

Her mind clicked into gear, instinctively analyzing his response from a detached perspective:Target acquired. Temporarily incapacitated due to stupefaction; phase one commencing due course. River rose slowly from her seat.

"I know you," Badger said, studying River carefully, his eyes guarded. "You were a passenger on Malcolm Reynolds' ship some time ago."

"Of a sort." She shrugged, mimicking his Dyton accent with careful accuracy. Spinning truth with lies...committing such an act had always given River a rather unfathomable thrill. It was a form of child play; of make believe. And she was _good_ at it. Back at the academy, they had ensured that she would be.

It was only ever a game; nothing more. No harm, no repercussions. Not if you won the game. Prizes would be promised after wards: she could be free from the incessant headaches and from the invisible probing fingers...reaching, testing, pulling, demanding... back then, if she won the game, then freedom was attained. At least for a little while. The haunting image of said fingers plagued the back of her mind like an infectious shadow, reliving its actions in her brutal memories. Her vision clouded in the process.

_No. Not now. Notoriously inconvenient timing...Manic tendencies must be suppressed... _River closed her eyes, stifling the overpowering urge she had to fall victim to another of her episodes...She had a mission to work towards completion. Efficiency and consistency were crucial. She had to win the game.

She devoted her attention to burying herself in the part she created. Channeling her energy toward that train of thought seemed to successfully dissipate her looming antics. She reopened her eyes. Automatically, it was as if a new lens had been screened in front of her eyes; a new person in front of her own. River's mind whirred with an almost mechanic instinct, canvasing how she could best use the situation to her advantage. _The game begins..._

"Badger, i'nnit?" She asked casually, opening the conversation.

Badger eyed her warily, disquieted. Her swoon she had attempted to internalize apparently did not go unnoticed by him. "What do you want?"

He was not keen on talking conversationally, River noted. He was all about cutting to the chase. Ever the businessman. She could manage that for him.

"Your expertise," she responded cryptically, as was her wont. "And your assistance."

A skeptical smirk flitted across his face. "Right. And why would I be inclined to service you for either of those?"

"Because I know what holds both of your reputations at stake." River gave a wry smile, waiting for his reaction. _Heart pace is accelerating; pupils dilating. Fear has been instilled. Incapacitation duly maintained._

His fist clenched anxiously around the hilt of his dagger. He gave a smile, attempting to mask his apprehension. " 'Reputations', ay?" he scoffed, covering his panic. "Are you implying that I'm leadin' some sort of double life, then? Can't say that merits my inclination to take you seriously, luv."

"No. I'm implying that my threats are not to be taken lightly." River countered, closing the distance between them, keeping her eyes level with Badger. He wouldn't take her seriously? Well, changing his mind shouldn't be a problem. _Commence phase two._

She struck her hand out, fast and snakelike as she attacked a pressure point at his wrist, rendering his arm useless. In the midst of his surprise, she quickly obtained his dagger. River angled the dagger at his neck, its point barely grazing against the bottom of his chin. Badger winced at the ferocity of her contact, and drew his head back to avoid the blade.

_ Stay in character_, River reminded herself. _You just gotta scare him._

"You may seem like a petty thief to many folk 'ere; but I know of yer involvement with the Alliance," River sneered. "Luckily for you: your connection to them pertains of some use to me."

Badger didn't budge. "How didja come ta know that about me?" He asked, giving up on his feigned ignorance. His voice was hushed; laced with fear and anger.

River tilted her head like a feline studying her prey. "Oh, I know all about'chu. You may 'ave recalled me sayin' so from our last encounter. "

The flashback resonated through the barriers of Badger's mind with meticulous accuracy, reflecting subconsciously into River's. _ "An innocent laugh interrupts Badger's sense of control...a mouse of a little lady approaches, whimsical and a novelty; A passing interest_..._'What's your story, love?' ...She has a glazed expression, then with the turn of her pretty head, a sudden authoritative arrogance takes over...'I got a secret. More th'n one...But you're talking loud enough for the both of us though, ain'tcha?'"_

Badger's brows twitched with apprehension at the recollection of his memory. He was visibly unnerved. This was good. It meant that she had his complete and undivided attention. His refusal tactic has been rendered useless. He was now forced to take her seriously.

Badger narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are you an agent from the Alliance, come to do me in?" He asked.

River's eyes flashed with sudden anger. Flicking her wrist, she jabbed the point of the dagger further against Badger's throat. He tilted his head back instinctively. "_Never_ attribute me to the Alliance." She snarled venomously. She rotated the blade in a quarter turn, grazing the sharp edge of the dagger along the length of his throat.

"Awright, awright." Badger complied, leaning back as far as he dared to avoid the gorram dagger. He lifted his hands by way of surrender. "My mistake." he apologized ostensibly. "No need to be testy." He muttered an afterthought, " 'S not like _you _got a stranger bargin' unexpectedly inta your home." He paused, as though waiting her for her to snap at the comment. "Can I at least know your name?"

Her stance, while still aggressive, remained static. _Complication. Warrants an impromptu solution. _River softened her features and lowered the blade, lessening the tension. Badger gave a silent breath of relief.

River chewed the inside of her cheek, deliberating quietly. Why didn't she consider this sooner? Of course any reasonable individual would want to attribute a name to some one. But she obviously couldn't tell him her real name. Simon would be utterly beside himself if she revealed to Badger that she was a fugitive—worse off with the law than even he was. Her mind opened like an encyclopedia, quickly conjuring names that would best suit her. She would have to maintain a name of British heritage, to keep up her facade.

"Ophelia Dickens," River decided. "Friends call me Phee." Her mind wanted to elaborate further. She was tempted to orate her thoughts, but she instead held her tongue and silently put up with her uncontrollable fixation to explore logic at any given opportunity. _Ophelia: Shakespearean maiden, condemned to her own fate—drowning herself in a river, prompted by her sudden, inexplicable madness. Dickens: The surname of a classic literary author from Earth-that-was. Known for his ability to write of moral uprightness for characters trapped in troubled circumstances. _Symbolism imbedded in a subliminal fashion...As far as names went, they would work well enough for her.

"Glad I at least got _that_ question out of the way." Badger deadpanned. "I'd be even more chipper if you'd be willin' to enlighten me some as to why you're here, though."

River rolled her eyes, throwing him a sarcastic look that may as well have said _"Please. Don't be such an idiot." _It was an exasperated expression she was fond of using on Simon regularly. Apparently Badger was equally qualified for it.

"Why _else_ would I be here?" She sassed. She flipped the knife and handed it back to Badger, hilt first. He took it, grateful that he was no longer in imminent peril. Well, per se... He sheathed it, not wanting her to have easy access to it again. Just in case.

River turned on her heel and ambled back towards the grungy leather couch. "I heard hear-tell that you're in cahoots with the Alliance's generous sponsor: Blue Sun Co." River said. Casually, she picked up Badger's spare brooch he had laying on the coffee table next to the chair. It glinted tiredly in the hazy light. Her fingers traced the pattern that was borne upon it: A silhouetted Dragon swooping past a heron, standing aright on one leg. She recognized this pin. It was the very pin that caught her eye when she first met him all those months ago. So many secrets of his were revealed to her with this little scrap of a beauty... her eyes remained mesmerized on the pin.

"Well, in a manner'a'speaking." Badger attested. '_She apparently knows enough about me already...What the hell. I'll just go with it. ' _ "Technically, I'm their mole. I agree to provide intel for them when they demand it of me. In return, I'm not bothered by them, and my prison sentence is completely removed from the picture. A pretty decent payroll in its own way, I suppose. Not that I ever expect those _huen dahns_ to pay me, anyway."

River waved a hand dismissively. She knew he hadn't ratted out Mal quite yet, which was all that was important to her as far as his sniveling second career was concerned. Serenity was still an asset to Badger for his own business outside of his submissive cowardice. "_In any case: _It turns out you have a mess to clean up. Your foolish decision to deny Captain Reynolds his full wages has made him inclined to search for better job offers and leave Persephone immediately."

"So much the better, really," Badger scoffed. "Why should this concern me?"

"It would behoove you to know that there've been Federal officers eye-ballin' the Docks extra carefully these days. Since you've ratted out so many criminals within your vicinity lately, the Docks have become a new hotspot for them." River didn't bother to explain how she came upon such information. The thoughts of the Feds earlier that day had invaded River's mind so incessantly and arrogantly that it gave her a rather horrible headache. But telling that to Badger would not be in her best interest at this given point in time.

She continued, "Because of that fact, any quick landin' with an equally quick dispatch would smell funny to them. Especially given the infamous goings-on at Eavesdown." She threw Badger a pointed look. "Once they decide to hunt down Captain Reynolds, then his reasons for dockin' at Persephone would trace right back to _you_." She couldn't resist imbuing a quote from what he said to Mal earlier that day: "and participating in the illegal smuggling of Alliance merchandise wouldn't exactly bode well on that scrappy resume o'yours."

Badger paled, "...Alliance...merchandise? Not possible. Reynolds sent me something entirely freelance. The cargo had no Alliance stamp on it."

"Well, you got bamboozled this time 'round. And you were dumb enough to fall for it, too." River replied, raising her eyebrows at him mockingly. Badger still didn't seem to fully understand her meaning. She sighed, irritated. She'd have to spell it out to him... "Reynolds pulled a heist at Greenleaf; snagging goods from their Alliance export ships. Unlike the last time they robbed Alliance cargo for ya, no one managed to ID their ship. Not this time around. Therefore, no news bulletin could forewarn you of their criminal act against the Alliance. All it took for them afterward was a bit of logo-replacing and box-shuffling, and they managed to get the cargo looking as inconspicuous any smuggled piece of cargo from the border planets. As I said: You've been duped.

"The only problem is, a Firefly-model vessel remaining dirt-side for all of two hours before headin' out again catches the attention of the purple-bellies. May have been Mal's fault, but it was more indefinitely your fault for giving him motivation to leave sooner than he'd like. And even more so your fault for letting yourself fall for false cargo in the first place.

"Now, I'm sure you'd prefer to keep your reputation intact. Thing is, so do we. Unfortunately, the only way Reynolds can slip past the Feds is if you are present. Not to mention, it's the only way to keep the feds from nosing around your...burrow, as it were. I'm sure you wouldn't want them findin' any products of questionable legality now, wouldja?"

Badger frowned. Swapped the cargo boxes...duped him..."Wait a minute! You all planned to blackmail me from the _start?_"

"Well, it ain't like you've been routine about paying them fairly. Someone had to take action against you eventually." River explained.

"That someone being you," Badger deduced. He was smarter than he let on. River couldn't help being somewhat impressed. "_Ta me duh. _You barstids are no better than the Alliance themselves."

"Don't act all delusional on me. It's not like you haven't had your own share of blackmail against folk. It's undoubtedly the only reason the Alliance still tolerates you. Makes me wonder what kind of dirt you got on them to get them to put up with you." River had her suspicions, but Badger was remarkably good at keeping such thoughts out of his radar—He was surprisingly better at it than Mal was. He must have been involved in some sort of Alliance training. It's the only way she would have been unable to find that thought.

"I'm still mighty interested in knowing how you figured out that tid-bit about me." Badger grouched.

"All in due time," She replied, tossing his pin at him. He caught it on reflex.

Badger glanced down at the pendent, and his eyes suddenly grew soft. River observed carefully. Whatever else had plagued his mind about the pin, he was desperately tucking it into the furthest reaches of his mind. And bizarrely, he was succeeding. No thoughts bombarded her own. Interesting. His inner strength warranted admiration. He was rather gifted at suppressing important thoughts. Too bad the Feds on Persephone were absolutely horrible at it in comparison. Their knowledge about Badger's influence may as well have ricocheted between the walls of Serenity. Gorram fools.

To Badger's credit though, he still held a trump card, despite the unknowing betrayal his employers sent to River. She was still one move behind on the game. Recalibration on her wavelength sensitivity would have to become a necessity in order to bid for the highest card. She needed to determine what plagued his mind where she couldn't reach. There was still plays to be made.

"So," River said "it's down to this: You either accept my request for assistance, and leave as a free man, no longer blackmailed with the crime of carrying Alliance Cargo; Or, you refuse and I ensure that both Mal and your Blue Sun employers have an excuse to eliminate you permanently. It's your choice."

"Some choice." Badger muttered. He huffed, "I'm all yours, sweetheart." His tone was begrudging.

"A wise decision."

Badger cleared his throat, uncomfortable with being in a position where he wasn't in power. "What exactly is your game plan? You've got me completely bottle-necked, so tell me what needs doing."

"Our ride out of here doesn't depart until morning. You'd best be gettin' some sleep before then." River replied. "You're going to need it."

"What about you?" Badger inquired. He may have had an expansive house...but it didn't mean he was exactly in a position to afford more than one bed. Either he'd have to grab the floor or she would.

"I don't sleep." River said by way of answer. In truth, sleep terrified her. The vulnerability, the inevitable nightmares that plagued her innermost fears...No. Staying awake would be no problem for her.

Badger arched his eyebrows, "Ah." No sleep, aye? For some reason, he didn't doubt her on that. "Very well, then. Wouldja care for something to eat or drink, then? Bide your time while you loiter around?"

"Attempts to poison me would be futile." River warned, recognizing his intentions. "I've a friend who studies pharmaceuticals extensively. Don't think I haven't picked up a thing or two." The said 'friend' being her brother; not that she'd be inclined to tell Badger as much.

"Poison wasn't my intent," Badger lied. '_Damn, is there any angle she _hasn't_ considered?'_

River smiled smugly at his irritation. She pointed in the direction of the stairs that led to his chamber. "Go. Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Badger frowned. Like he would submit to her orders that easily. They were still under _his_ roof, after all. "I don't think so. I'll only trust you as far as I can see you." he said.

River sighed. "Very well. You asked for it." Then, quick as lightening, she kicked him in the face, sending him into instant unconsciousness. She stood over his collapsed form, making sure he had truly been knocked out.

"_Buhn dahn."_ She muttered, finally dropping her Dyton accent.

"She'll be fine, Simon. No need to worry none. Cap's got hisself right-sure that she's all right. That's gotta mean she's okay." Kaylee had seated herself on counter, hugging one of the infirmary pillows against her chest. Her eyes compassionately followed Simon as he paced the room restlessly.

"The problem is, I seem to struggle trusting the captain's judgment when it comes to my sister." Simon seethed, fretfully running his fingers through his dark hair. He was unraveling. Kaylee had never seen him act like such a train wreck before. It had her a mite unsettled. Her heart ached for him, and not just because she thought he looked so gorram _rugged_ when his hair was in disarray. She tugged at her bottom lip, feeling odd about how to go about comforting him. She'd been restating the same basic reassurances to him for the past hour and a half, yet her efforts had proved to no avail. She decided to attempt her last resort: "C'mon, Simon...You should try and sleep some. Stayin' awake for longer than you ought ain't going to bring River back any faster."

Simon stopped his pacing and swerved towards her, his eyes wild with vexation. "How can I sleep at a time like this!" He exploded. Kaylee cringed at his tone. She knew he weren't angry at her none. But still...She hated it when people yelled.

"I didn't mean no harm by it, Si. I was just sayin..." Kaylee lifted her shoulder guiltily, attempting to vouch for her comment.

Simon, in a moment of clarity, remembered himself and attempted to simmer down his anger. "I...I'm sorry, Kaylee..." He rubbed his hand wearily against his forehead. "I can't help but worry...River has always been my prime concern, and I allowed myself to get comfortable enough here to lose my acuity as an older brother. There are a multitude of horrible things the Alliance will do to her if they have her in their custody. And as long as she's out on her own, getting caught is a grave and horrifying possibility for her." Simon's voice had slowly been rekindling its angry edge as he spoke. "It's just...so aggravating that Mal has the _audacity_ to treat the situation like it's no big deal..."

Kaylee dropped her gaze in shame for him. She drew the pillow ever closer to her. Why'd he have to go talkin' trash 'bout the captain like that? It weren't his fault that River left. At least, she didn't think so...

Simon gave a sigh, weary with himself and the stress that had wholly disquieted him. He plopped down at the foot of the infirmary bed, burying his head in his hands. "But at the same time, I can't deny that Mal is right: River is my responsibility. The fact that she left is no one's fault but my own...God, I'm such a despicable brother. How could I have let this happen? I promised to look out for her; that I wouldn't let anything happen to her. I would do everything in my power to keep her safe." Distressed, he raked his fingers through his hair once more "...Some stellar job I did." he muttered bitterly.

He looked so exhausted...so tormented. Kaylee felt an urge to cuddle up next to him and smooth that beautiful hair of his...to consolingly caress his baby-smooth skin. Anything to try and provide a sense of comfort for him. But he was still undeniably tense, so she maintained a safe distance, just in case he blew a gasket again.

Kaylee sometimes struggled to remind herself that people didn't always function quite like machinery. There wasn't always a cause-and-effect to explain the reasons for certain behaviors. And being able to fix them when they were feeling broken wasn't exactly a possibility all the time, neither. Much as she wanted to help, she knew it wouldn't add up to much in the end. No matter how fixed up someone would appear on the outside, they'd still be damaged and broken on the inside.

"She'll turn up, Simon." Kaylee reassured him. He didn't look entirely convinced, but at least he seemed to appreciate Kaylee's sentiment. He gave her a half-hearted smile by way of thanks, and Kaylee's heart flipped a little. He always looked so charming...She wondered how he managed to pull it off so well all the time?

Simon awkwardly broke his eye contact with Kaylee, apparently uncomfortable. Kaylee bristled slightly, annoyed that he caved on her yet again, but she forced herself to remain patient with him. Now was certainly not an appropriate time to try and woo him. Misery loves company, sure. But if she was going to set things in motion between them, she'd best do it for _his _benefit, and not for her own. It'd be selfish it was just to appease her own desire. Mutuality was important, and as far as she could tell, neither of them had quite reached that bridge yet. Simon didn't seem quite willing yet at least.

"Oh no..." Simon breathed. He was staring hard at the far counter across the room.

Kaylee frowned, confused. "What?"

Not answering, Simon got up from his seat and hastened to the empty counter, frantically searching each of the cupboards that surrounded the area.

Oh, for the love of all that's good in the universe...What's got him so riled up _now?_ She had justgotten him to settle down some, for crying out loud! "What's wrong, Simon?"

"I can't...seem to find...the smoothers..." Simon said erratically as he checked the upper cupboards. "they're not where I left them..."

"The smoothers...you mean, for River?"

Simon slowed to a stop and went stiff. He turned to face Kaylee, his expression taut with concern. "You don't think Jayne would stoop so low as to steal my supplies, do you?"

Kaylee was taken aback at the severity of Simon's expression. That seemed a rather rash assumption. To hell with comforting him; there weren't no way she was going put up with him acting like he had a pole stuck up his ass. "What in the hell would make you think Jayne would want to steal meds?" Kaylee argued, vying for Jayne's defense.

"Yeah...I didn't think so either." Simon agreed.

Kaylee frowned at his response. So he wasn't pointing fingers...he was just eliminating possibilities. "Then who—?"

"It had to have been River. But I don't know why she would be motivated to do such a thing...she hates being around anything medical in nature. Why would she..." Simon left his sentence hanging.

"Maybe she was just bein' resourceful?" Kaylee asked. "Or tryin' to trash them. She's been prone to do that occasionally."

"Or she has something else in mind. River's actions have always been...enigmatic at best since her return from the Academy. I don't think I could accurately guess what she would have in mind with a bunch of sedatives. Primal instinct for survival while she's on her own? Bartering for more money? I don't rightly know...whatever her intentions, I have a feeling that she's left Serenity for something a little more dangerous than a simple moonlighting trip."

"Now don't you go assuming the worst of things, Simon." Kaylee chastised crossly. "She may not be exactly normal; but that doesn't make her any less smart. She can handle herself out there. And I'm sure she has good intentions with the smoothers. She's the smartest girl I've ever met. Whatever she's doing, I'm sure it's for the best."

"That's a dangerous philosophy, Kaylee. Not everything necessarily turns out for the best. River's condition should be evidence of that."

Kaylee raised her chin indignantly "For the best or not, Simon. What I said is still true. River is an all out genius, and she's brave and _strong_. Strong enough to handle the fact that the government messed her brain up, and brave enough to put up with people who don't completely understand what she's goin' through. Give the girl some credit. Chances are real good that she brought meds along to appease _you_, Simon. If you knew she'd be going on an adventure away from you, you'd be shoving meds her direction for just in case. She's gotta recognize that those sedatives will help her blend in at the very least. And I'm sure you'd prefer she blend in rather than give herself away with another of her episodes."

Simon closed his eyes and groaned. "I've been blowing this way out of proportion." He exclaimed. Promptly, he kissed Kaylee on the forehead. "Kaylee, you're a genius. Why didn't I consider that?"

"Because it makes the most sense." Kaylee griped irritably. She wouldn't show it, but she was tickled pink at Simon's compliment, and the unexpected kiss on her forehead had left her a mite woozy with elation. Truth of the matter was, Simon was still being a complete dunce about River and needed to be called out on it.

"I suppose that's true." Simon agreed. "God, I'm such an idiot."

Yep. He was at that. Kaylee reverted back to comfort-mode, and made one last attempt to get Simon to realize that he needed to recover and get some rest. "No, you're not a _complete_ idiot," she amended. "But your lack of sleep is definitely making your reason go fuzzy. I'm telling you, you need sleep if you want to have a clear head tomorrow when figurin' what's gonna be done about River."

He hesitated. Then, he finally gave in: "You're right. I'm well overdue for sleep."

Kaylee nodded "You better believe I'm right. Now go get some shut eye before you change your mind."

Simon smiled wanly. "Thank you, Kaylee. Even though I've been an ass about everything, I appreciate your efforts to get me to see reason. I guess I needed to hear it from you."

Her heart swelled with pride. "Thank me later." She said shaking her head. "Sleep first." She allowed a smile to dance across her face in spite of her bossy demeanor.

Simon's eyes still harbored sadness, but they gleamed with gratefulness. He bent down and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," He repeated softly. Then, before Kaylee's mind could think to reactivate itself, Simon vacated the room.

Kaylee stood wearing a stupid grin on her face. Damned if she hadn't fallen hard for him already. That doctor sure knew how to make a girl feel twitter-pated. She hoped his sleep wouldn't be restless...She liked it when Simon was in his right mind, and not over-thinking things. Made him less stuffy.

* * *

><p><strong>*TRANSLATIONS*<strong>

_huhn dahns_ - bastards

_buhn dahn_ - idiot/moron


	6. Revelation

_**A/N:** Yeah, this chapter is ridiculously short, and it was a long wait...I must seem like such a buzz-kill...Sorry folks! I brought some insight into Badger's predicament, and wrestled my way through another River POV. Hopefully, I made some amount of sense in this chapter, as it's mostly a reflective info dump. My next chapter will indeed be longer and less abrupt, and I'll hopefully be able to share it with you lovely people a lot earlier, too. the drama production I was a part of has now concluded its show week, so I'm a free human being for a little while again._

_I hope you enjoy! And as usual, please R&R! I know for a fact that significantly less than 1% of the people who read my stuff don't leave behind any feedback; critique or no. I'mma be a brat and demand that you tell me SOMETHING you liked/didn't like about my story, because I want to grow as a writer and I can't do it without input from you folks. :P_

_**Disclaimer:** Nothing here is mine. I wish everything was, but it isn't._

* * *

><p><strong>Revelation<strong>

A half hour had allotted since River had clocked Badger. The bloke was undeniably in dire need of sleep, since he never came to. River estimated that he would regain consciousness again by early morning if he maintained a steady sleep. She'd hit him hard enough, she doubted he would make a surprise awakening. Softly, she lifted his head and cushioned it with a small, lumpy pillow. He'd have enough of a migraine the following day, there was no sense in making it worse by _not_ giving him a soft place to rest his stupid head. Carelessly she draped one of his crocheted blankets over him. The motion of the blanket scooted Badger's pin (which had been released from his grasp once he hit the floor) against the floorboard and caught River's attention. Eyes fixated, she walked around Badger's sprawled body and squatted down in front of the pin. She plucked it from the ground and stood up, continuing to study the thing.

The pin permeated whispers of memories back to River, stronger and more forceful than it had when she first analyzed it earlier that evening. Already, she could tell that the injection from the smoothers she swiped from Simon were beginning to wear off. The drug had managed to maintain her lucidity and dampen the white noise of incoherence rather well. While it lasted, she had savored the silence. Direct thoughts were harder to hold back, but at least the hum of ambiance and idle thoughts weren't bombarding her. But the drugs had run their course, and River found herself gradually returning to her abject state of hypersensitivity.

She couldn't afford to inject another dose tonight; having smoothers be applied this late in the hour would inevitably cause her to fall asleep. And she refused to be pulled under as a victim to her constant nightmares. Her nightmares were slightly more bearable for her when she was awake, because then she was at least in a position where she could attempt to ward them off.

She closed her eyes and focused on meditating; blocking out everything that tried to encroach gradually into her mind. She hummed an old ditty, forcing herself to focus on one thought, rather than the multitude of lingering memories that were impeding into her own. Crowded...so crowded.

One thought ferociously overpowered all the others, latching on to River's mind with a sudden intensity. The presence of the recollection hit River with such aggressive force, that she fell against the wall. She began to tremble at the impact that the memory bestowed. Badger had succumbed to an emotionally driven dream, and was unknowingly pulling her along. Even when she was awake, she couldn't seem to keep someone else's nightmares out of her own...Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slid weakly down the wall, losing her own battle. Darkness clouded her vision, and she was pulled under...

_ "...Slave trade, doctor...Don't make me remind you again." I respond; a threat to get her to stop asking questions. She can't afford to know the secrets I have harbored from this girl. No one can know. It would cost me everything if anyone knew the girl's whereabouts...even her true name is dangerous to exploit. I can't risk it._

_ The doctor takes the hint. "Understood. Sorry, sir." The door seals shut, leaving the young patient and I in complete darkness._

_ "Well now, luv. Care to tell me why you's so upset?"_

_ The girl continues to tremble, staring painfully at her hands. "Dark...swollen stings. They won't stop...always charging and buzzing...malicious, indignant. On the hunt...no pollen for the taking. Must...retaliate..." Each of her words comes out more frantic than the ones before them. She continues shaking, likely on the verge of another seizure. Her black hair is dripping with sweat, clinging desperately to the frame of her face, mirroring the urgency and panic she demonstrates. I near the girl, kneeling carefully before her. I cover her hands with mine, gentle and cautious. "No one's 'ere to harm yeh, poppet. We gotcher safe'n'sound down in the burrow. Haven's yer next stop, once we gets ya a mite better."_

_ She tries writhing her frail hands free from my grasp. My grip goes from tender to unrelenting. I need to get her calm. If meds couldn't do it, then by God, I would make sure that I would. I have to._

_ "Fallon, look at me." I tighten my grip slightly, "look at me."_

_ Fallon obeys, struggling to keep her green eyes focused on mine. _"...On the brink...Rung Tse Song Di Ching Dai Wuo Tzo._..they took the flower. Plucked it with the thorns still on it. Didn't expect a scar." she says, her eyes brimming with tears. She tilts her head back, rocking herself as she does so._

_ I reach forward and place a consoling hand on the side of her face. "Now, what wouldjer mam say to that?" I brush a thumb gently across her cheek, wiping a stray tear. "Talkin' such nonsense...She'd right have my neck if she saw me allow them tears of yours ta fall."_

_ At the mention of her mother, Fallon's features soften. For a glimmer of a moment, she is her old self again. Nostalgic at whatever memory sprang. Her eyes are euphoric. Then, just like that, her childlike expressions are cast off almost as quickly as they had appeared. Her face contorts in pain once more. _

_ A glimpse of my eight year old Fallon...that is all I needed to know that my niece isn't as far gone as she had first appeared to be._

_ My eyes sting with sudden, unexpected tears of my own. I blink them back stubbornly. This is no time to be bleedin' over emotional. "Dontchu worry, poppet. I'm gonna get you outta this nightmare o'yours, best I can. Soon you'll be free an' happy with your folks again. On my honor: I will make sure those barstids'll pay fer what they did ta you and yer brother." My voice betrays my anger. I pause, collecting myself before continuing. " I needja to be strong fer me just a while longer yet, Fallon. I can't do it without yer help, luv."_

_ Fallon nods, stiffly and erratically. She struggles to regain her composure, but the effort is visible enough for me to love her all the more for her strength and determination. She definitely inherited the family's stubborn streak._

_ I smile sadly back to her and plant a small, tender kiss on her forehead. "Thank you, poppet."_

River gasped back into consciousness, as if she had been drowning in Badger's subconscious state. How heart wrenching...River touched the side of her face curiously. She had shed the tears that Badger had failed to express. Her curiosity transitioned to sheer unrestrained joy. She wasn't the only one who had managed to escape the Academy! At last, there was someone else in the outside worlds who could truly understand her.

River glanced back down at the pin. Images of Fallon danced into her mind like wisps of smoke; hazy and faded. It appeared that Fallon and the pin shared some sort of connection for Badger. Was this young girl the real reason he agreed to work with the Alliance? River knew Badger was involved with the purple bellies, but she had no idea he was in so deep...In many respects, he wasn't so different from Simon. This new bit of information would undeniably heighten the risk factor in having Badger aboard Serenity. Who knew how much the Feds knew of Badger's true loyalties?

River couldn't help feel a bit guilty for being so cruel to him. But she wouldn't dare express that. Badger had no idea that River was another escapee. Having Badger know of River's true identity could do one of two things: Since he harbored a fugitive of his own, he would either make for a reliable and trustworthy ally, or he'd sell her out to maintain his cover story to keep a favorable position in the eyes of the Alliance. Once someone became a double agent, he could be trusted by absolutely no one until his true motivation had been fulfilled.

River curled against the wall, hugging her knees. The temperature had dropped during the night, leaving her absolutely frigid. She forced Badger's lucid dreams out of her own head, with every effort she could conjure. Instead, she had herself focus intently out at the window across the room, willing the sun to appear. Unfortunately, even geniuses can't accelerate the nature of time.

Luckily, enough time _had_ passed, that another injection would be possible. Morning was due to arrive soon, and she needed to ensure that she was in a (more or less) rational state when Badger awakened. Weaving her fingers through the tangle of her silken clothes, River fished for the pocket that held one of the smoothers she brought along (the rest were hidden in Inara's shuttle), and hastily stuck herself with the shot. The relief was blinding. Blankness seared her vision, steadily muting the stray thoughts that ricocheted in her mind. She leaned her head back, lustily savoring the return of the fleeting silence.

* * *

><p><strong>*TRANSLATIONS*<strong>

_Rung Tse Song Di Ching Dai Wuo Tzo_ - Merciful God, please take me away


	7. Insinuation

_**A/N: **So this took me awhile to write. That's the sad thing about reality-it doesn't like to let me go. But there is finally forward motion with this story! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **Sans the plot line, nothing here is technically mine. characters and setting belong solely to Joss Whedon. Also, Roberta is NOT mine. Check out the episode Shindig, and you'll see that Inara greets her at the ball in Persephone. I thought she'd be a convenient enough ride out of the planet.  
><em>

**Insinuation**

Badger awoke with the brutal sensation of a horrid crick in his neck. To his misfortune, his sleeping position proved to be equally as uncomfortable. His head was pounding at an agonizing rhythm, though he couldn't entirely ascertain where the source of his pain was. It was like the pain had germinated throughout the entire circumference of his skull. He rubbed the back of his head, and rolled it, gingerly cracking the vertebrae along his neck. Stiffly, he situated himself in an upright position. From the throbbing in the back of his head to the sensitive soreness he felt at the front of his face, Badger was inclined to believe that Ophelia character was entirely devoted to the idea of knocking his intelligence clear out of his head.

Wait. Ophelia...

Gorram it. Please let the whole memory have just been a hallucinogenic dream...

"Good. You're awake." The sound of the y_ao nu'_s voice denied his wish and confirmed her active presence in his unfortunate reality. She was standing in front of the window, subtly eclipsed by the faded smog and light of dawn. Badger winced at the gray streaks of morning sunlight that lazily panned past her. There was still a scented residue from the ghastly incense, which had since simmered out during the night. That smell had been so gorram strong, it's potency could be likened to that of a drugged narcotic. The stale linger of the scent probably wasn't helping his headache. Nor was the contribution of the muted light that agitated his bleary vision.

Badger rubbed his eyes, adapting to the intruding light. Gruffly, he hoisted himself stiffly up from the floor. "You coulda at least ensured I had a softah landin' before you went and smashed my face in," he complained.

Ophelia raised an eyebrow indignantly. "Alls I can say is you got what was comin' to ya," she justified. "You chose not to sleep comfortably in your own confinement. So I resort'd to the next logical solution."

Badger glared. If hospitality was going to be this rough in his own home, he wasn't exactly looking forward to the treatment he would undoubtedly receive when he would be aboard Serenity. Those folk liked him particularly less than even this stubborn flower did. Though her severity towards him, he noticed, seemed to have dwindled some since their previous discussion. She was acting with a more guarded countenance. She was still poised with a regal and authoritative appearance. But behind her hypnotic eyes, he could detect her using calculating discretion with her every word and every glance. Very much a different persona than the threatening, albeit sassy attitude she displayed the previous night. Something had shifted since last night, but he could not begin to imagine what that was.

His head continued throb with an incessant pounding. _Ma de..._He rubbed his forehead, trying to coax the pain out of existence. Best not to think too hard today. The effort would be fruitless when he was at the mercy of a persisting migraine. He would have to return the favor to Ophelia sometime...when blackmailing him no longer served as a reliable protection from his wrath.

"Grab what you're gonna. We've a ride to hitch, and it'd be best not to be late." Ophelia stated, passive as ever.

Badger sighed. What was the point in rebelling against her? She made her point well enough to him yesterday. It seemed both foolish and futile to attempt to divert her every step of the way. Wordlessly he stalked out of the room, kicking the lousy pillow and blanket that remained strewn in the middle of the wooden floor. There really wasn't much by way of value that he would think to bring with him. How long was the twat going to hold him hostage on board that vessel, anyhow? Just 'till the Feds decided the crew weren't scum beneath their feet, he supposed.

He was still incredibly curious (and suspicious) as to how Ophelia came to know so much about him, the Feds, their intentions, and everything regarding Malcolm Reynolds. She weren't a part of the captain's motley crew, that much he knew. She had made that perfectly clear to him during Mal's little shindig all those months ago.

So, not crew...More likely a committed passenger. She seemed a mite young to be engaging in Miss Serra's realm of expertise. Though Ophelia certainly would have earned a pretty penny doin' so. She wasn't exactly hard on the eyes by any means. Childlike, yet insinuatingly alluring at the same time. Her demeanor suggested a rebellious streak outside something that the Guild would tolerate. But she was also too self-important to pass as a mere doxy. Her silky, expensive garb didn't fool him none. There was more to her than she was willing to reveal to him. The question remained: Who was she, really? Guess he'd have to find out along the way. That at least gave him some motivation to put up with being bossed around by her for the next few days (or however long the blasted predicament would last).

He freshened up some, bent on removing any scent of sleep or any of that wafting, _niao-wen_ incense. After he'd done that, he donned on fresh clothes and shrugged on a tan cotton blazer-one of his more professional outfits for get up. It was fancy, but snugly wearable. Figured he may as well look somewhat decent if'n he was to fool the law enforcement. But feeling homely wouldn't go amiss while he was being held as a temporary prisoner. Of course, Badger naturally wouldn't feel like his usual debonaire self without including his favorite derby hat and a little decorative flair to accentuate his hybrid style. By the time Badger was finished, Ophelia was standing at the front door, waiting.

"Awright, sweetheart. Whisk me off," he said, twirling his hat in his hands before placing it on top of his head. "You won't be needin' to attach me to a chain like the prisoner I am, will ya?" His tone dripped with sarcasm.

Ophelia tossed him that same expression that may as well told him he was a blathering idiot. "That won't be necessary. However, if I do find you makin' _any_ attempt to escape, my retaliation will be most...unpleasant."

Somehow, not knowing what she would intend to do made him that much more willing to comply. Snotty g_uay toh guay nown..._ The whole point of blackmailing him in the _first_ place was to ensure that he wouldn't be inclined to leave one way or the other. He sneered crankily as he followed her out of his house.

Inara Serra would hardly consider herself to be ill-humored by nature. But there were days that she simply couldn't stand anything that life threw at her. And today was definitely one of those days. She had been trained to condition herself aptly to regulate her health and be at her prime for her every job opportunity. But she was fairly certain that the Marquis she had serviced for the previous evening had been hiding a vicious cold. He cared more about satiating his lust than he was about his own health; and he hid his condition well. She didn't detect the slightest symptom until the following morning when he started the sneezing phase of his sickness.

As a generous gift from karma, Inara was now suffering the consequences of his actions. Or rather, inaction. Thanks to the Marquis, her head now felt stuffy and her focus was drained; sinus pressure was gradually encroaching between her eyes. She gingerly touched bridge of her nose. Today would be a rather unpleasant return trip to _Serenity_...Once Mal discovered that she had allowed herself to get sick from a client, she'd never hear the end of it. She groaned; a combination of disgruntled malady and dread. She was getting a headache just _thinking_ about Mal's smug amusement towards her condition.

In all fairness, she really _should_ have been more careful. Ever since the scandal with Atherton all those months ago, Inara hadn't been exactly the most highly anticipated Companion in Persephone. Everyone was too terrified at the idea of Mal stepping in the way again. He was like her pit bull...And an embarrassing one at that. She had never been one to flounder in this line of business. But she didn't charge cheap, and money had been spreading thin across the 'verse. Even the upper class in Persephone's stratified social structure was beginning to reap the rewards of the Alliance's high taxation. It made the luxurious line of work a little less than profitable. And Inara wasn't used to having to scrounge for decent clientele. Mal's shady business wasn't exactly contributing to her benefit, either. He was getting increasingly paranoid about getting clipped by the Federal Officers, so he was constantly buzzing around the backside of the frontier planets in the Rim.

Inara sniffed, holding back an urge to sneeze. She counted herself lucky that she had been working in the Marquis' establishment rather than in her own shuttle. The last thing she wanted was to have those germs reside in her abode. She secretly hoped that every occupant in the Marquis' mansion would be contaminated with his wretched cold. It would serve them right for neglecting to inform her of his condition beforehand.

The worst part is that she couldn't leave earlier while she was visiting. She had promised to remain for a fancy brunch before she departed. She was always open to an opportunity to dine with expensive company. Real food prospered as its own payment for her in a way. Protein based meals could get a bit sickening after awhile, so the brunch was a rewarding experience in and of itself. She would have enjoyed herself more if she hadn't been succumbing to the symptoms of her own cold. And the meal seemed to last forever. The sun was already high up in the morning sky before she could politely excuse herself from the mansion.

Now within the safety of her own vessel, Inara allowed herself to be as sick as she felt. Her demure visage was replaced with the inner discomfort she had been hiding. Sluggishly, she changed back into her chartreuse silk robe and hunted down her handkerchief. She was sorely tempted to just sleep off her cold, but she knew she had to return to _Serenity_. The crew was expecting her return.

Resignedly, she slumped into the pilot seat of her shuttle and prepped the ship for take off. On the control panel, she noticed her comm light was blinking, informing her that she had messages. She furrowed her brows curiously, and initiated each message. There were three of them.

The first message was Mal: " Inara. It's Mal. We're shipping off-world a bit faster than we first anticipated, so you won't be rendezvousing with us at Eavesdown. We're headed toward Harvest. If you can't meet us halfway, you'll at least know where we'll be." He sounded more agitated than normal, which had her confused. A deal must have gone south again. The situation probably wasn't any worse than it usually was. Mal was likely just in a crabbier mood.

She listened to the second one, this time from Wash. "Hey Inara. This may come as a surprise to you, but our favorite little psycho has gone missing since earlier today, and we're placing bets that she may be hiding out in your shuttle. Simon is having a fit over here, so if she turns up, we'd be much obliged if you could let us know that you've seen her."

_Oh no..._Inara let out the breath she'd been holding in. Her heart was beating a little more frantically at the news, well aware of what the implications of a missing River would entail. She suspected it would only be a matter of time before the girl decided to go on an adventure of her own. She'd been cooped up in the ship for so long, Inara could hardly blame her for wanting to go on a bit of a moonlighting escapade.

She played the third message. To her surprise, it was River.

"As you probably know by now, I'm no longer aboard the vessel. Wasps were buzzing...striped and angry. We had kicked their nest, so I had to fix it. Don't leave before I come back. I have the solution. No one will like it, but you all will have to trust me. We can't just throw rocks at the wasps."

_How perfectly obscure_. Inara could feel her brain turn to mud. The girl was always talking in riddles, and those were not exactly the number one thing she wanted to contemplate at the moment. At the very least she had an opportunity to wait around until River showed up.

She waved a response back to the vessel "_Serenity_, this is Shuttle One."

"Hey Inara," Wash responded. He didn't sound as enthusiastic as he normally did...Bad moods must have been taking their toll. "Did you get my message?"

"Yes, it came through," Inara affirmed. Her voice was subtly developing a nasal tone...how wonderful. She forced herself to swallow the phlegm that was draining down her throat. These next few days were going to be miserable... "I received word from River. She's safe, as far as I know. She told me to wait for her until she returned, so I guess I'll be stranded over here for awhile."

"Thank God! I finally have something to calm down Doctor Paranoid up here."

Inara smiled wanly "Well, don't hold your breath. She still has yet to make an actual appearance."

"Yeah, but Simon doesn't necessarily have to know that. He just needs to settle down so that I won't have to worry about him jumping ship to go find her. I'd say he's near on the brink of his own sanity. And one crazy Tam is enough for all of us, I'm sure."

"I can't argue that," Inara concurred. "I'll be here indefinitely, obviously. But I'll wave you again once I have River safe in my custody."

"I appreciate you being willing to do this, Inara. I'm sure it was the farthest thing you had in mind for your itinerary today."

"Not at all. I'm happy to be of help. I just hope she's okay..."

"Don't we all," Wash sighed wearily. "Are you able to leech a ride our way?"

"Don't worry. That shouldn't be a problem on my end," Inara reassured. "Send my regards to everyone else. I'll see you when I see you."

"Roger that. Be careful out there, Inara." Wash canceled the call.

_Onto the next_, Inara sighed, reaching for the vid comm. She dialed the comm sequence for her friend Roberta—a well-to-do heiress with whom Inara had been friends with for years. She recalled her presence at the seasonal ball when she was accompanying Atherton Wing all those months ago. Due to the annoying tendency of Mal's poor luck intervening on her behalf, Inara never really had an opportunity to catch up with Roberta. She hated to have to ask her for such a favor; but she was left with little other choice. Her shuttle couldn't stray too far, given that it was a short range vessel. She'd definitely need a pick-me-up plea.

Roberta's face flickered on screen, receiving the call. "Inara," she greeted warmly. "It's been far too long, my friend." Her brown locks framed her smiling face delicately, with her earrings jangling against her neck in equal elegance. The jewelry seemed to wink back at Inara, as though they had some whimsical secret to share.

"How are you, Roberta?"

"Fair," Roberta replied. "How about yourself? I knew you were on call here at Persephone, but I didn't fathom it would be long enough to enable you to wave me."

"Well, as fates would have it, I've gotten myself into a bit of _ma fahn_."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" Roberta's expression flickered into a moment of concern.

"None that I haven't been able to handle before," Inara waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sure you're aware that my shuttle is rented from a transport ship, the _Serenity_?"

"I have been made aware of the fact."

"It turns out that the vessel had to depart early, and I'm in need of a ride over to their location once I'm done with things over here. I'm still due to remain on Peresphone for awhile; though I'm not entirely certain for how long. I know this is a last second request, but I'm rather desperate. If you—"

"Say no more, Inara. I will be more than pleased to assist you." Roberta responded.

"I appreciate it, Roberta. I'll be sure to repay you in full. _Serenity_ is sailing towards Harvest Moon, so the distance from here shouldn't be remarkably daunting."

"Always a pleasure to help an old friend. Send me a message once you have your affairs settled. I'll make sure a shuttle-friendly vessel makes its way to you."

"_xia-xia, mei mei,_" Inara clicked off communication and swiveled in her chair, facing the lush red interior of her shuttle. Well, that was settled. What to do until then?

Sleep. That would be a glorious way to wait until River made her arrival. It's not like Inara was in any condition to go out looking for the girl. It'd be a wild goose chase, and a dangerous one at that. Searching publically for River would only further exploit River's presence, and Inara's reputation would instantly be sunk for aiding the young fugitive. Besides, any further exposure to the outdoors would not be helpful for the current state of Inara's immune system. Rest was the best option.

All to happily, Inara sank on her bed and crawled underneath the satin covers. _Ah, bliss..._Inara moaned pleasurably as she felt all her muscles begin to go slack. The lack of motion made all the difference. Within minutes, she was asleep.

An incessant knocking at the front of the shuttle woke Inara instantly. _River. _Inara snapped awake. It had to be her. With as much poise as she could muster, Inara rose from her bed and walked towards the source of the noise.

"Inara, it's Ophelia. I'm back."

Inara froze in her tracks. Ophelia? She didn't know any Ophelia...The voice was strange...A strong Dyton accent was present, but the inflection seemed acutely familiar. Her cold must have breached her cerebral cortex; muddying her sense of reason...

A little more cautious, Inara neared the shuttle's entrance, and peeked through the crimson curtain she had draped over it. The sight before her was not at all what she had anticipated. It was River, sure enough. But the discreditable presence of Badger threw Inara completely off guard. Undeniably, River was the one calling herself by the name of 'Ophelia', but Inara couldn't begin to fathom as to why.

"I brought company," River smiled, gesturing to her scruffy neighbor.

"_I have the solution. No one will like it, but you all will have to trust me." _Inara recalled the message River had left on the dashboard of her shuttle. She couldn't seriously have considered _Badger_ to be the solution to...whatever the problem was? Inara could think of a plethora of better options for anything, and Badger would rank furthest on her list. Of what use could that rat possibly be?

Inara blinked rapidly back to the present, collecting her resolve. Trust. That's all River requested. She could pull that off...so long as Badger didn't plan on accomplishing any sneaky business along the way. Against her better judgment, Inara opened the door and played along with River.

"So I see," Inara said, beckoning them inside. God. Her voice had gone nasal while she'd slept. How embarrassing...Badger would be seeing her at her worst—and in her _robe_, no less. She could die of humiliation. She shoved the shame in her pockets, desperate to keep as much dignity intact as she could. "I'm glad you've returned, dear. I was beginning to worry."

_Is that my dress?_ Inara noticed River's get up as soon as the girl entered the ship. It was a long, jewel toned garment with ivy designs embroidered in complicated patterns all around the dark material...A violet sash was tied (a bit clumsily) about her slight waist. _Definitely mine. _Inara noted that River's hair was also adorned rather haphazardly with a pair of her chopsticks. In Inara's absence, River clearly took advantage to having full access of the shuttle. Even some of her make up was painted on River's face. Whatever false persona River was trying to pull off, she certainly was going to great lengths in order to achieve it. River was acting so perspicuous, it was almost hard to tell that it truly _was_ River that Inara was speaking with.

Badger, Inara noted with disdain, wasted no time in getting an eyeful of the luxurious set up of her abode. His eyes were probably sifting for the best things to swindle from under her nose.

"I must say...Ophelia..." Inara said, warily testing out River's adopted pseudonym. It felt strange rolling off her tongue...As though it left an odd flavor when she said it. "I wasn't expecting you to bring company of such..._questionable_ respectability."

"Well, you know me," River replied pleasantly, shrugging genially past Inara. "Old habits die hard."

Inara blinked, bemused. She didn't think she'd ever be able to get used to River's accent.

She remembered the rest of the crew talking about how she pulled off a diversion with Badger during their last stay on Persephone. A Dyton accent was used then as well.

_Of course!_ Inara realized. _She's trying to keep up appearances so that Badger won't suspect her true identity._ Inara shook her head. She must _really_ be sick if it took her that long to solve that little puzzle. Best to just play along, and hope River knew what she was doing. If she thought too hard, that may just be the giveaway that Badger would be looking for regarding River's honesty.

"Lovely place you got 'ere, ambassador," Badger piped up, not hiding his admiration for how well off Inara was.

"I'm flattered you think so," Inara responded drily, masking her sarcasm with her usual detached modulation. "Excuse me," she pardoned herself and walked over to River, leaving Badger at the shuttle's entrance to examine the drapery and finery that embellished the room. With a soft (albeit congested) whisper, Inara demanded "Why, of all people, is _he_ here? Please tell me you have a good explanation." This was a desperate move on Inara's part. River was never exactly adept at giving a straight answer. But Inara couldn't help thinking that River had...transformed, somehow. The sudden awareness and rationalistic tendencies she had thus displayed had sparked an inkling of hope for Inara.

River turned her head, directing her playful gaze into Inara's. "He's come to set the lightening bug free," she said, cryptic as ever.

Inara bit back a scoff. Guess she should have figured it would be too good to be true. Acting the part didn't mean River necessarily _was_ the part. "So long as you plan on setting _him_ free soon after. His presence makes me uncomfortable. I don't think you're fully aware of how much the crew despises him."

"I know wot I'm doin', love." River assured her. "Get us in the air; we've a long way to go."

Bossy little thing she'd become...Inara definitely wouldn't get used to this charade. How on earth was the girl successful with keeping her fearful tendencies at bay? It must be an extraordinarily huge effort on her part. That, or Simon had finally concocted meds that may as well have cured her. Well, she'd never know if just continued gaping at River like a fish out of water.

_Right._ Inara settled herself back in the pilot chair and revved the engines. She waved Serenity. This time, it was Zoe who answered.

"She made it back," Inara said, deliberately being vague, but direct enough so that Zoe would recognize immediately who she was referring to. She was aware that Badger's presence was within earshot.

"Is she all right? Simon's been going all sorts of _feng le_."

"She appears to be in excellent physical health. But...she did bring a guest to tag along."

"Who?"

Inara cast a glance back towards her two passengers. River gave a single shake of her head, discouraging Inara from revealing too much too soon. Inara complied to the silent request. "A familiar acquaintance of ours. Not of any specific danger." A_t least not at the moment_.

Zoe seemed to get the gist of what Inara left unspoken. "Understood," she replied neutral toned. "We'll get things ready for your arrival."

"I appreciate it, Zoe. I have a source who should be able to drop me off back at _Serenity_. Could you possibly synchronize your nav system back to my flight plan? Wash never sent me the approximate coordinates of your destination."

"In just a second...there. You should be able to reroute back to us no problem." Inara noted a green light blinking sleepily on the console, indicating the completion of the sync.

"Thank you." Inara clicked off, fearful that any additional conversation would spark more suspicion from Badger. Keeping diligently to her task, Inara waved Roberta via vid comm once again.

"That was fast," Roberta said by way of acknowledgment.

"Business wrapped up sooner than anticipated," Inara said drily.

"Oh. Client gone bad?"

"Not _my_ client, per se..." Inara replied evasively.

"Oh no, not again. Poor dear." Roberta said, gushing with pity. Inara bit her tongue, allowing Roberta to draw her own conclusions. It was better than having her ask questions that Inara simply wasn't at liberty to discuss.

Inara continued, "I've sent you the coordinates of my location. We eagerly await your arrival."

"We?" Roberta's thin eyebrows tugged together in confusion.

Inara resisted the urge to wince. _Shoot. _Now she had to go and provide some threadbare explanation. "I have a few guests who seek passage on the _Serenity,_ and I'm their lone shot at getting there."

Roberta's face cleared. "Oh is _that_ what you meant? Buddha almighty. Why didn't you just say so?"

Inara shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't think an explanation was pertinent. I rarely affiliate myself with Captain Reynolds' field of work."

"I understand," Roberta allowed.

_No. You really don't,_ Inara thought with a grimace. "How soon can we expect you?" she asked.

"Your rescue should be on its way within the hour."

"Thanks again, Roberta. I owe you one."

"My pleasure, dear." Roberta signed off.

Inara waited a beat, then turned back and glared at River. "When we get a spare moment, you have have a lot of explaining to do, young lady," she admonished.

River pouted—probably the most River-like tendency that Inara had seen yet today. "Don't be mad at me none, Inara. I was only actin' in the interest of the crew." Inara tapered her glare, noting the double meaning of River's statement. Acting indeed. _And she simply _had _to add me to her cast list..._

Badger idly waved his defense, "Hey now, I don't like this arrangement here any more than you do." He raised his hands in brief surrender, gesturing acrimoniously towards River. "It was the bloody sprite that done dragged me 'ere against my will. I didn't 'ave any choice in the matter."

"Seems to be the claim of the century," Inara deadpanned. She sighed. "Make yourselves comfortable, I guess. I'm going to change into something a little more civilized for our journey. I wasn't exactly expecting the likes of you to show up," Inara said pointedly at Badger. He smirked disdainfully back at her.

Head held high, she strode past Badger as he sat himself down on her round lounge sofa, propping his legs on the tea table in front of him.

A little too eagerly, River set herself on the pilot's chair. Inara groaned internally, hating her predicament. She sealed herself within the security of her closet.

"Well, she's a right snarky one, i'in't she?" she heard Badger through the door. Inara glowered, taking her moment of solitude to blow her nose. This was going to be a very long and _painful_ voyage. What in the seven hells was River thinking?

***TRANSLATIONS***

_Yao Nu-_ Demon woman

_niao-wen_ - piss smelling

g_uay toh guay nown...- _Conniving or scheming person literally "ghost head and ghost brain."

_Ma fahn _– trouble


End file.
